


thirteen

by wonnietv (heoneybee)



Series: kihyungwon bingo [1]
Category: K-pop, Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Android Hyungwon, Good Boy Jooheon, M/M, doctor Kihyun, kind of fluff, mafia, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 09:29:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17118773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heoneybee/pseuds/wonnietv
Summary: “don’t thank me if you’re just gonna go back and—“ there’s a loud crack and a louder thud coming from downstairs and kihyun is immediately on his feet. jooheon struggles up a moment later and they share a look just before another thud follows.“i think my guest is awake.” the doctor concludes.“guest?” jooheon questions. he winces with each quick step but follows after kihyun and out of the apartment. “did you take another android in?”





	thirteen

**Author's Note:**

> let's go khw bingo let's go!!! with this fic the first tile of the bingo is DONE and i hope the other one shots won't be quite as long as this one bc this one turned out longer than expected but anywayyyyy i hope u all enjoy this. it has not been proof read btw 
> 
> ps, there's a code hidden in the story let's see who can figure it out uwu

kihyun finds him in the middle of the city, tucked away between two rusty and beaten trash cans; long legs are sticking out of the shadows, bare and perfectly smooth. it’s curiosity and a quick paced realisation that make him move in, bend at the waist to catch sight of the small face that’s hidden beneath a hood and a fringe too long.

kihyun knows an abandoned android when he sees one. the one sitting on the ground doesn’t seem to be broken — all of his limbs are still attached and in place, no cables seem to be sticking out, no open circuits — yet the android doesn’t move.

he’s an expensive model, something that becomes more than just apparent once kihyun pulls back the hood. long lashes fan out over soft cheeks, the perfect slope of a round nose and rosebud lips making the robot look enticing.

the androids that kihyun has picked up in dumpsters and dark alleys in the past were all rather cheap. they had an arm or a leg missing, their memory drive fried. they were models too old or too broken to still work the way their owners wanted them to. the cheaper models were often used for heavy manual labour and it was obvious that the people owning them thought it more affordable to get a newer model than to repair the old one.

maybe kihyun’s rebellious streak that drove him to dress like a wannabe rocker in high school and university never died, or maybe he enjoys playing god a bit too much, but at one point he started looking for the androids no one wanted and fixing them.

nothing seems to be broken with the model in front of him and his metal frame is heavy enough to make kihyun groan when he goes to pick him up.

kihyun’s garage is located directly behind his clinic and although it’s not more than a few minutes walk, he’s left panting and sweating by the time he places the robot on his makeshift operation table. he’s done this so often, he knows what signs to check for. the small square of smooth skin at the back of the android’s neck becomes undone, revealing four different colours of isolated cables. it takes some tinkering to get to the circuit beneath, but kihyun has quickly found the severed and welded ends of the main communication sensor.

the battery is intact and connected; it starts loading immediately when kihyun connects the android to a charging port and a small sigh of relief leaves his lips. there’s no movement yet, and there probably won’t be for a while, so kihyun leaves the android laying on the steel table for the moment.

the sun is about to set, his eyes squinting at the bright orange and pink as he climbs the stairs to his apartment, directly above the clinic.

it’s a slow day; it has been a slow week. maybe month.

it’s slow because how can it not be when immunity and resistance against almost all ails is guaranteed until near death. the people who can pay for it, those that have the expensive androids and manufactured bodies and faces and personalities -- those aren’t the people kihyun opened a clinic for.

but it’s still slow, even in the outskirts. his visits are amongst the cheapest in the whole of neo seoul, but for most people on the bridge of poverty line it’s still too much.

his phone rings as he punches in the key code to his apartment and slips out of his shoes. the screen of his phone shows a blurry picture of his face and jooheon’s and he picks up almost right away.

“honey? what’s wrong?”

“hi, hyung.” on the other end, jooheon sounds meek and hesitant. it doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s gotten into trouble, but the pregnant pause that follows alludes to it and has kihyun sighing. he pinches the bridge of his nose and walks into his open kitchen. his stomach grumbles pitifully, but he ignores it when he hears jooheon inhale sharply. “so, you remember the black cobra, right?”

kihyun remembers them. he remembers their brief and intense encounter and their vivid threats towards jooheon and demand for money. kihyun remembers; he’s given him all he could then and he doesn’t have more to give him now.

still, he asks: “how much do you need?”

“i— i don’t—“

“jooheon, just come here. i’ll help you out, okay?” jooheon sighs and mumbles his quiet agreement. half an hour later kihyun’s doorbell rings.

he’s managed to scrap together enough food to make a meal for two. the rat meat stinks up every crook and crevice of his apartment, but it’s meat. jooheon steps inside with a busted lip and bruised and swollen face. he limps over to kihyun’s couch, most definitely feeling the disapproving and stern stare aimed at his nape.

“one day, lee jooheon,” kihyun stars and goes to grab the first aid kit from his bathroom. jooheon is still sprawled out on the couch and on second look, kihyun sees his shallow and probably uncomfortable breaths.

“one day?” jooheon prompts and meets kihyun’s eyes as he comes to stand in front of him. kihyun sighs again and feels his stern facade crack slightly — there’s dried blood on his face and collar and kihyun’s heart aches. jooheon is just a kid. a stupid, troubled kid that got mixed up with the wrong crowd to survive.

“one day i won’t be there to save your ass and you really ought to start preparing for that day.”

one day, kihyun says again. jooheon looks away when he cleans his wounds.

he’s been saying similar things since they were younger and so far he’s always been there to get jooheon out of trouble. from back in the day when he would steal bread to now where he’s getting passed from one mob to another and collecting massive debts.

“thanks.” jooheon mumbles when kihyun pulls away and presses a cold pack against his swollen cheek.

“don’t thank me if you’re just gonna go back and—“ there’s a loud crack and a louder thud coming from downstairs and kihyun is immediately on his feet. jooheon struggles up a moment later and they share a look just before another thud follows.

“i think my guest is awake.” the doctor concludes.

“guest?” jooheon questions. he winces with each quick step but follows after kihyun and out of the apartment. “did you take another android in?”

not enough time has passed in between kihyun connecting the android to the charging pod and now. his battery can’t be full, yet he is clearly going rampant inside the confined space. kihyun has half a mind to tell jooheon to stay back, but when he opens the door and steps inside, jooheon is already stuck to his back and pushing alongside.

the android has found large metal pliers and going by the dents in the entrance reserved for cars, he has been trying to get out. as soon as kihyun and jooheon enter he turns to them with wide eyes and obvious confusion. broken androids are easy to deal with; kihyun knows how to fix their bodies and make them function again. talking and reasoning and helping them out in other ways, wasn’t his strongest suit. since most of the models he dealt with were old, none of them came even close to the level of artificial intelligence the new ones possessed. they build them with feelings nowadays, or so kihyun heard. but only the good ones. lust, joy, _pleasure_.

he looks at the android standing there in nothing but a large, tattered hoodie and dusty shorts and wonders what his story could be.

“it’s okay.” he lifts his arms in surrender and to show that he wasn’t hiding any weapons. if the android’s memory drive had been damaged too badly, he wouldn’t be trying so hard to escape. he remembers, kihyun reckons. whatever happened to him up until this point, he remembers at least some. “you’re okay, no one’s going to hurt you. i found you in the street and i brought you here to fix you and charge you up. we don’t mean any harm.” at the mention of a ‘we’, the android’s eyes shift beyond kihyun’s shoulder. there’s a spark of something in them when he spots jooheon. uncertainty; his brows furrow like he’s on the edge of recalling a memory he can’t quite access. kihyun blinks and turns and finds that whatever memory the android seemed to have been searching for, jooheon has found it.

he’s standing there with a stricken look. visible discomfort reflects in jooheon’s eyes and it takes a moment for him to realise that kihyun was looking at him and expecting answers.

“you’ve met before.” he concludes when jooheon remains silent. a brief nod is all he gets in return, followed by nervous shifting. he won’t get more out of him right away, so kihyun turns back to the android. he’s still clutching at the tool, his posture tense.  
kihyun watches as he opens his mouth to speak, but no sound leaves his lips. they build them with feelings, kihyun recalls again. he wonders if the android is actually capable of looking heartbroken or if that is just his imagination.

“someone cut off your communication ability.” kihyun tells him gently, “i could try to find the proper parts and fix it, but i can’t guarantee anything.”

the android finally lowers the tool, touches long fingers to his lips. kihyun waits for their eyes to meet again.

“i only checked your neck, will you let me check the rest of you, too? just to make sure nothing else is damaged and if it is, i can try and fix it up now.”

it’s when the android has finally turned his back to him and pulled the large hoodie over his head that kihyun realises what jooheon’s reaction meant. on the android’s lower back, right next to his spine, is a tattoo-like brand. carved into his skin is a black cobra, curled into a ring and with its mouth open, eating its own tail.

“hyung…” jooheon peeps up behind him. kihyun ignores him and keeps his focus on scanning the android’s body with a sensor.

the android turns to glance at him over his shoulder; doe eyes stare back at him, plush lips downturned.  
“i know.” he says, ultimately.

*

kihyun doesn’t believe in fate. never has, never will.

he doesn’t know what jooheon, who’s been a newly acquainted victim of the black cobra and an android that has clearly been abandoned by the same mob ending up in his living room on the same day means; but he’s sure it’s not fate.

jooheon is currently gulping down the stew he made that has long since gotten cold, while the android — thirteen he wrote down as his name when kihyun asked — sits curled up on his couch with his head lowered. kihyun has barely touched his own food. he doesn’t feel hungry, but he feels a headache incoming.

bad things happen to good people, he’s been told. those that live on the outskirts, those who aren’t lucky enough to enter the golden centre of the city — those will suffer most.

kihyun became a doctor to help people. he became a doctor and left his parents and the golden lifestyle they led behind to change something. if not necessarily the world, he wanted to at least change people’s lives for the better.

when he looks at jooheon and watches yet another android end up in his apartment for sanctuary, he’s not sure he can.

he places the spoon back into the bowl in front of him and pushes it closer towards jooheon, who is about to finish the first one.

“do you want to tell me what’s going on jooheon?” the boy looks up, looks down, stops eating. he’s reluctant to share; kihyun knows that jooheon hasn’t had an easy life, he is aware that one of his worries is probably how much of a constant kihyun will remain if he keeps getting in trouble. kihyun knows, but he needs jooheon to explain.

“they wanted me to make a delivery. it was supposed to be an easy job.” jooheon starts and kihyun can see him glance towards the android. “they wanted me to deliver a special cargo from the centre of neo seoul to the black market. i was told the boss didn’t need him anymore.” _him_  kihyun thinks and both of them throw another glance at _thirteen_.

the android feels their eyes on him and lifts his round head, looks at them with clueless eyes. whatever the android had done to be passed from the hands of the very head of the mob to the black market; kihyun is surprised that they didn’t just decide to destroy him and use his parts.

he turns back to jooheon.  
“what happened next?”

jooheon looks back at his bowl and sinks against the back of kihyun’s ratty couch. kihyun can see him fiddle with the hem of his sleeves, a burning pink bleeding into his cheeks and ears.  
“i brought him all the way to the market but i couldn’t just leave him with the handlers. i didn’t know what they would do to him and he looked so—“ jooheon interrupts himself. discomfort and embarrassment colour his voice and expression. the android is looking at him too, now, apparently interested in their conversation.

“i tried to hide him again and leave but they found me before i could. they took him away then and i don’t know what happened to him. he didn’t speak on the way to the black market, i don’t know what happened that he ended up with me in the first place, but i tried to help and—“

kihyun is about to open his mouth, the words ‘it’s okay, honey’ on the tip of his tongue. he can’t get a single word out, however, before there’s a shift and the android who had been immobile and silent the whole time scoots over towards jooheon, wrapping the boy in long, slim arms and pulling him in a hug.

he sees jooheon freeze up, shy when he leans into it and glances at _thirteen_.

“it’s okay,” kihyun finally whispers, smiles in reassurance, “you did the right0͏͕1͏̼̙̝̘1͡1̴̭͇0̗̯̙̯͉̩͓1̜̫̫̹̺̫͠1̖̰̫1͏͕͖ ̠̹̙̠0͔͖͇͉̯̩1̝͚̣1̬̝̞̬̘0͕̼̖̯̫̝1̤͕00͕̜0҉̻ ̡̪͈0̜1̸̭̲͔̝̦̦̦1̠̟̦͜0͖̯̙̜̝͚̹1̛̥̥̩̘̝͈̝1̮̼͜ͅ1̗̗̣̱̠͎͟1̣̣̰̘̮ͅ ͈̻̜͔ͅ0̣̥̹0̩̙̖̱͜10̼̣̘͉̯0͖̠̺͍̩̬̩0̶̲̞͉̘͕̥ͅ0̩̘0̷̼̞̫͖̻ 0̭̼͖͈͠1̱̲͎̲̩͝1̟̳͚̰̥̹͕0̵̰͓0͍̬̖̮̟0̬̱̟͝0̛̰̬̱1̹̹̜͖͙͍͞ ̢͓̤̱̤0̛̹̻̬̹͚1̶1̥̞̰͔̥̜͚0̱̻1̼̗1̜͎̤0̱̻̻̼̹̳͟1̖͞ ̡̖͙̼͇̙0̩̭̯͕̬̰̕0̵͍̱̗̠̱̳̜1̶̯̪͚͓̭͍0͓̻̝͔̠̟0̮͙0̫͕̱̥̼0̗̱0̡̝̘̼̦͎͍ ͇̹͚͓0̦͖̞1͈͝ͅ1̗̜0͕̣̠1͠0͔̦͍̠0͏̦1͎̺̪͓ 0͙̹̯̻̯0̰͉̰̯̱̱1̢̰̯̼0̠̹0̨͔̜0͞0͙0͏̘ ̘̘͈̯̮͞ͅ0̭̭̦1̮̟͢1̸̬͕̠̳̯1̮0̵1̟̳͖̦1̥͇̹̗͖̦͕1̱̩̬͝ ͍̙̼̜0̣̖͍̗͠1̸͚1̳̩͉01̫̪̦̼͙0̬̰͕̺̼0̦̞̞̜͔ͅ0͉̻̫̠̟̜̗͝ ̠͓͔̜0̱̝̫͞1͇̹̖̮̼͎̻1̬͉̙0̛̯̗͖̼1̲͍͚͍͖1̫͜1̼̝͞1̻̬ ̛̻̠̦̗͎͓0̧̳̖̪͕̘̥0̘͈͚̼1̟̫̺0̳͈̙0̘̥̖0̥̟̟͚͓̦0̞̱̜̤0̰͉̻̟̼ ̗̦̲̩̠̣͝0̥̤1̠͈͙̦͉1̢̹͍00̗̥̦̪͔̤̟͘0̮̣0͓͎̱1̳͕̹ͅ ̳̟̩̬0̜̗̱͍11̬̘0̷1̪͕͝1̗̮͙̘͈͕̗01̛̥̠͇̲͙ ̫̫̼̩̱0͙͍̫̲̲0̴̻̖̦1̬̕0͉͚̦͈̖̯̩0̨͔̹̮̫͇̝0̪̪̞̞0͚0̸͉̤̲̹̖͓ͅ ̻͍̮͇0̙̻̰͕͍1̖̥̙̹1͖̮0͕̤1̙̙͍̲͔͓0̸̥͓͖̯0̻̬̱̮ͅ1̤̻̗̹͚̕ ̭͚0̟̱͍0̴͙̬̝1̢̟0̙͟0̟͎̗̹̰0̴0̟͔0̵̱͎̤̻̭̩ ̭̬͇01͏̣̬1̡1̟̘̻̫̫̩̘͘01̣̭̯̮̪͙1̵̠1̱͔̥̯ ̫͢0̜͔͉̺1̡̩͕̙1̰̘0͎̞̜̺̟1̜͓0̫͈̟͔̗̤0̻̳̣̦̭͠0̤̲̳̙̫ 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͖̠̩͇̘̦0̴0̯̣͙̰͇͎̱1͢0̲͖̜̤̰̬͈0̼̩̻̹̳0̵̫͕̦̻͎͈̹0̬̩͎̯͍͙0̜ ̤̼͙̱̭͕̜͠0̭͖̪͝1͎͕̳͞1͇̦0͙͕̬1̝͎̦̟̥̝0͓͖̻0̧̮̫̗̝͕̬̫1̜̣̮̘̦̹ ̻̘͓̭͓̱0̪̞͎͜0̫͚̗̥͞1̨͙0͙̥͇̱͉̭̻0͍̻̖͢0͈͈̻̝ͅ0̬̬͖̲̩0 0͏̥ͅ1̸̝̜̙͕̤͖͙11̡̦̩̣0̰̮1̴͕̙͙1͚1̻̣̙̠͇̲͇ ̝̘̪̟̗͡0͚̼̦͓͚̯̮1̞̝͚̣͢1̻̱̕0͏̭̗͉̣͓̩ͅ1̩̲̩̭̯0̢0̤̳̩͡0̱͚͚̗͈͓ ҉͚͍0̫̟̘̣͖̙1̻̤͍̥̤10̡̞̘͔1͙͔̳͉̻̬1̻̠̺̦1̹1͢ 0̝̗͔0̛̯̰͈̥̞͇̠1̶0͙͈̭0̮̜̬̖̳̠̪0̵̼̦0̛͎0̬͕̖͇͢ ͍̣͍̪͓̘ͅ0̝̘̩͍̯̰̟1̵͎͕̪̰1̶̯̞̖͙̯0͇̝͔0̱̣̰̳͔̳̞̕0̪0͡1̢ ҉̖̬͕̪̘̘̩0҉̟1̺1͕̹͕0̲͔̞̣͖̗̬1̬̗̠1̙̥̲0̳͇̖1 ̴̪00̞̰͙̻͖͖1̭̞̝͍̥ͅ0̲0̜̥͝0͉0̟0̤̭͚̹̯̯̜ ̥̼̩̼̬0̝̻̦̰̬̭̙̕1̼1̵͇͎͉͎̟͖̫0҉1̙͍̫0̡̩͖̖͖̻̖0҉͙̙̬̠͔̜͔1̨̼̘̼ ̪̠̦̪̮̘0̲̞͡0̷̞͙̙͍̮̼1͕͉00̹̦0̴͎͈̰͔̝0҉͓͕̦0͖͉̭͈ ̞̦͇̹̮̳̘0̢̹͎̲1̬̪̺̼̝͕͟1̪1͎0̜͙͉1̢̹̻̝͚̥̻1̥̲̫̻̠̠ͅ1̵̞̣ ̨̺0̭̤͔̭͉1̠̞̬̜͜1̴͕͇̦̼̰̠̹0̣̪1̛̞̺̘0̣̤̩0̗͖0̨̫͕̭̠̖͕ ͚̞͈͈͝0̻̙͔͈͚̳ͅ1̵̣̼̣1̲̭̠͇͈͓0̛̣̫͈̤͈̻1̳̠̟̘͡1̸͕1̱͉͜1̼͈͈͔͙ ̬̟͉͠0̸̻̝͓͚̤̪̼0̱̭̣̣͝1̭̺̙̦͎͖͢0̧̹͉000̭0̼̝̤͔͉ ̜̜0̵̱̙̻͉͇̻̱1̪̯͉1̷̦̞0̭̗̜0҉̯̬̖͉͈0̖0̥̠̱ͅ1̤̰ ̵0̰1͙̳̮̥͕̦͙1̖̬͍̪͕0̪͈͕̗̱1̗̬̜̞̰ͅ1̸̭̠̯̪̫ͅ0̡͓̼̖1 ̝͍͞0͔̦̯̝̹̯͡ͅ0̨̠͍1̣̬̰̭̱͝0̭̦̘̱̯̯͢0̸͉͕0̪̱̱̩͍̭̪0̷̻͖͓̮̲0̧̦͍̖̺ͅ ͏̭̦̫0̻̙̳1̝̻̘̙̝̪̬1̵̥̞̪0̺̯1҉̳͎͙̠ͅ0̪̱̼͚̠̼̥0̡̪1̳̦̫̦̞͈̕ ͓̰͚00̪͉̜̝̙͝1̹̯̯͕̟̦0͉̖̯̼0͏̺̫̹̘̳̥0̦͘0͇̦͍̣̫0̜̼̘̫̦͙ ͈̰͔̹̱͇0̮̖̲̺̦͈̦͞1̛͙͙̺͓͚̣1̙1̩̝̯̩͉̳0͈̲̬̣͎̯͝ͅ1͈̳1͎͉1̷̫̺̤͈̝̱͍ ̝̦̘͉̖0̸̖̠̫ͅ1̬̜͙̩1͚0̥̹1̵̹̙0̡0̥̤͈̘0͘ ̵̳̳̺0̺̥̳͓͓ͅͅ1̴̝̩̬̟̯̻1̴͎̬0̗̞̕1͕̙̪ͅͅ1̭̥͕1̼͡1͈̦̺͈̘͙͢ ̝00̤̠̠̟̹͕1͉͕̱0̨͚0̸̣0̯̗̯͎̟͎̜͜0͍̬͘0̕ ͉͖͟0̱͍͖̦̹̜͞1͏1͕00̻͇̠̹͖̤0̙̭̻̞̜͈0̦̜̮͈̱̦ͅ1̯ ̵͍͓͍̰0̢̲̰̮1͓͇̖͖̼̰1̞͇͍̙͚̞01̲̤1͕͝0̪̖̞̙̥1͈̬̫̰̲̘̕ ҉̪0͞0̘̺̳̬̱ͅ1̰͚0̱͕0͠0̧̠͈̙͇0̺̹̼̬0̟̜̭͚̺͓͘ ̤̖̗̺͘0̥̹̘̫͎̠1̟̮1̨̩̩͓0͏̦̗̙͙͍̦̻1͏̳͓̳̭̦͇0̵01̨͔̮̤̥͙ ̳̖͉̘0̴̮͇̼̞0̷̟͔̬͎̺͎͔1̘̣0̰0͎͡0̝ͅ0̤̘̪̝͍͍0͇ ̜̬̩͖0̸̪͕͍͈̱̙1͉̘̰̟͞1͍̞͇̟̯͍͡1͚̟̻̲̤̯̤01̱͞1͙̖ͅ1͓̞̩̞̪̮̬ ̝̹͠0̼͇̞1̜̥̜̺͍͈1̶̭0̭̻̭̹1͕͎̠̜̯̤͢ͅ0̳̠͇0͔̻̠͠0̳͙̥̘̘̥̬͝ ̲̝0̱̹͓͈1̢̠͉1͖̼̼̥̯͎͓0͏̞̤̟̤̥̼̙1͙̤̤̳͇1̣͓1̮̜̯̘ͅ1͈ ̡̬̙̱̘̱̭̩0̝0̷͎̮̭̮̫͍͙1̮̰̥0͇̖͜0͍̜̮̜̲0̻͎̻̘̗͢0̨͓̯̲̖0͉ ̦͉̰̬̺̟0̫̗͈̕1̢̼̝͔1̷̰̙̠0̠̥̼0̫̥̪͇̬̻ͅ0͚̘̩͓͕͎͟0̵̝̥1̸͔ ̬̖̤͍̻͢ͅ0̴̹͎̠1͚͖͍̭̻1̘͔͖̜̙͡ͅ0̞͓̱̦̦̪̯1͙͖1̪̩̖0̦1̥ ̣̖͞0̺̫0͏̝̹1͕0ͅ0̛̗̣̗̮̲0̷͚͇̰̙0̻̺͓̼̮̟0͓ ҉̪͓͍̰̻0̬͚̗͕̥͍͜1̲̥͔̱͈̬1̖̰͖01̘͍̞͙̼͞0̥̫͇̮̟̣̙͡0͙̹1̨̻̘͙̼̬̗ ̟̲̹̱͎0̤̻̜͎0̮͇̜̼͝1͜0̬̲̞͍̗̫͇00̝̦͎͓͉̰̰͘0̷̫̫̟̟̬͎0̣̯͈͖̝͉̼͘ ̝̳͓̱0̻͚1̡̭̬͎̩̩1̝̥͡1̢0̶̹̗1̪̤̻̦1͉̘1̰͚̹̠͓̙̯ ̻̣̞̞̥0̭̳̪1̴̹̤1̳͇͚̱̞͍̝͟0̷̠̰̗̤̗͇̖1̵̭0̶0̖̫͕͚̘̱̕0̟͎̩̱͉͢ ҉0̧1̥̫1͎0̴̠̯͈͕͓̞̲1͉̦1̝̜̦̬̖̗1̩̩̖̹ͅ1̯͔͖̞ 0̴0̱̲1̸̬̬̖00͉̭̠͙͓͉̗͡0̫̹̟̹̱͓͕0̫̖͓̘̗͡0̛͖͈̹̲̙ ̣͍0͙̗͚̯͖ͅͅ1͙10̡̻͙̤̤0͖̖̫0̟̮̮͕̱̟͕0̶͕1͍̟ ̨̦̮̟̯̦͙͕01̨̖1̩̟̩̻̠͞0̸͙̯̣͕̞1̞͍̭ͅ1̖̮͎͙̪̹̮͘0̗̲1͖̬̥̩̬̺͝ͅ ̺̞͝0͉̟̭̗̰0̧͈1͈̠0̦͕̱̖̮̩͕0҉̼̟͚̤̦͎0҉̤ͅ0̞͔̮̥0͍̹̰̱̖͘ ͚0̮̯̹1̸͎̝̝̥1̴̟̰͈͇̫0̮̼̲̖͖͍1̥̺̬͎̰̱͝0̞̫̱0̥͇1̪̦͖̫̠ ̡̻̠͙̜̝̟0̳͔͔̹̺̥0̝̬͔̩̹͕1͚̺͕͓̩͈0͍̠͕̻̻͘0̝͔̯̲͖̖0̪̱0͈͡0͏̤̱̥̝ ̸͖͈0͎͚̜1̲̰͕͙̱͉̘͟11̺͡0̻͉̖͢ͅ1̲͍̖͈̹͉̠1̙͍1̳̟͓̬̟̤ ̣̭̺̫̦͔0̢̗̣̱̯̠1̰̺1̗0ͅ1͍̤0̭̹̭͢0̼͢0͉͚̞̠ ͙01͓1̛̯0̮̳͜1͈1̥̳̭̩̖̝̺1̭̻̟̠̞̣1 ̛0̯͈̬͙ͅ0̳͉̳10̛̮̮̰0̧̙̺̳͎̝̤͎0̴̳̥͙0̭̺͖͈͍0҉̤ ̛̞̥͇ͅ0͖̮͉̻̳1͉̝1̵͕͎̖͉͍͇̖0̱͇̮̟̣͔̤0̺͓̘̗0̠̗̝̠0̖1̰̻̟͓̗̮ͅ ̣̫͍͠0̣̹̦͇̹͠1̰͞1̷͈̰͓̭̭ͅ0̱͍̗1̦̜̘̞̯1͍0͟1͈̘̲ ̞͓̬͘0̖̞̠0̫̫͈̭͈̩͍1̟̬̣̣̼̩ͅ0͟0̣̝͙͕0̭̙͉͖͉̞͞0̛͔̬̫̳̰0̣͈ ҉̹0̼̪͍̗̦̜11͙͙̬͓̥̫͙̕0̲̰͈͍1̸0̫̟0̡̦̥̱̫1̭͓͔͘ 0̥̤͚ͅ01̶̻00҉0͏̟̩̘̭̟͙̪0͕͈͍͓̩ͅ0̟̙͢ ̨͖̙̣̺̙̘͕0̹̞͕͇1̟̤̠͜1͏̬͉̳͎̬̱1̜͖0̵̻͉̲̖1͚ͅ1̳͕͙1͕ ̰̮0͚̦̝͕1̡̤1̖0͕͔̳̲1̯͕͕̱0̴̻̞̫̥̰͙0̶̭̗̦0͉̝͔͖͉͖ ̘̭͖̫̲͇̞0̖̮̗͕̙̼̰1̡1҉̞̤̫͔̤0̷̯̰͍̠̼1̱̻1̜͚1̝̩̦ͅ1̧̣͍̭ ̲̼0̗̙̹̭͎̘̝0͈̼ͅ1̰͢0̠̣0̟0͏͚̳̣̙̙͓00̰̻̻̼̯̪̫ ̥̰͔͓̩̠ͅ0͞1̞͎̖͡1̰̫͇̗͎̳͎0̬̱̞̺0̫0̯͖̹͎̳͈̳0̣̤̠̫͟1͈̟͎͙̜͎̕ͅ ̵͚͇̱̩0̳͖̥͓͓1͙̤1̬̳̣͎̮̼͜ͅ0̦͉1̼͈͙͔͘1͝0̮̺̕1̹͈̤ ͙̜̤0̝͉̭̝̠̯0̰̫̦ͅ1͏̠͍̥0̱͇͡0̜0̼̜̖̙̻̰͉00 ̨0͙ͅ1̗̙̖̝̖͔1̥̲̗͙0̣͇1̸͚͉̟0͓̕0̩̱̦͖̦1̛͎ ̸̯̬̮̲̯͕0̤̯̰͈̻͓̗0̪1̫0̬͚̻0̟0̢͚̠̯̼̭0͎̫̰͓0͚̭͔͇ ҉͓0͖ͅ1̞̤1͚̜̬̗̖̘1̱͉̤̻̠0͘ͅ1͇͓͍͚̤̫͙1̖͎1͇̬̰̞͉̙̣ ̖̩͈̤̝̼͜0̼̪͔1̨͔1̟̗̠̮̫0͞1̙̯̳0̪̣̯͙0̼0 ̤̲̝͚̦̜0̰͠1̬̲̲͝1̠͞0͓͕̠ͅ1̘͕̤͈̜̖̜11̛̘̞1̛̫͙ ̛̖̖̰̲͓̘0̢̲̥0͍̮̮̣͉̦͍1̟̼̪̬̤̙0̪͇͉̦͕͚0͏̘͉̰͎̤0̭̖̰̱͙̭͟0͞0̨̝̻̟̞͔̝̙ ͚̞̹̘ͅ0͓̯͎̩͓̫1̤̝͔̺̣͇̝1͖0͏͖͇̤̳̪0̩̹̝͟0̤̱̳0͙̙͇͎͘1͙̰̞̥ ͎0̬1̭̹1̪0̱͉̖̱͉̲̥1͇1̠͎̖͞0͇̕1̝̥͍̫̩̗͕ ̜̖̮̮̣̹̳̕0̣̙̤͙̖͓͝0̱̤1͇̻̠͉̩̼0̛̪̲̹̭̟̦͖0̛̣̥̘0̷̹͎͎0̻̘0͍̠̝̭̦̲͠ ͓͕̙̼0̮̬̲͙̱̟̮1̸͖̺̺̪̯̮ͅ1̛̣̫̰01̶̪̳̗̙̖0͝0̤͕̭1̙͔̳̦ ̞͙̕0̬͝0̼̬̘10̨̥̼̘0̭̹̯͚̮0̴̥̲ͅ0̥̯̙̱0͖̦̝̮̟͞ ͕̣0͢1̯̠̘͈̳1͙̭̱̣̼͡1̼0͓1̜̲͇͉̥̝1͉͕̹̻̲͙̲1̷̹͚ ̗̞̬͕͜0̴̲1̷1̲͈͠0҉̝̙̭̯̩̺1͓̞͙0̭̭͟0̯̙̠0͚͈͍͚̣̩̤ ̙̭̳ͅ0͕̰̼̪̭11̟̖̟̬̻̩͠ͅ0͇̬͚1̗̦1̩͍̝͎1͓̝͉̳̥͙1̨̻̦ ͖͙̲̳̬̼0̧̱͇̼͇̝̭0̘̝̪̫̻͎̝1̯͈͖̯͈͙̦0̹͖͕̺̝00͖͘0͔̞͙̥0͍ 0̦͉͠1͓̫1̢0͏̞̥͇̘̜̪ͅ0̻̞͕̜̙̠̱00͚̣̳͜1̧ ͇0̤1̗͉͘1̢̯͈͉0̸͉̥̱̮̝̖͓1͚̭̜1̳͇͔0̡̣̜̖̟1̼̫ ͙͙̻̩̰̹̲0̱͍̠̝̯̬̰0̫͇̩̥͠1̶͉͎00̭̣̖̰0̡͔0̰͟0͢ ͔̮0̪͕1̵̯̲̜̖̩1͕̜ͅ0̤̰̞͜1̛͉̣͔͕̥0̙01 ̱̠̠̮̙0̮̱͔͔0̢̟1͇̦̞̥͠00̭̟͈̖͜0̭̮̠͡0͎̺0͝ ̹̲0̬̪̖1̰̗̗̫1̠̭̤̳͖1̟͇͞0̩1̶̟̻̩̱1͎̺͓1̢͚̩͕̗̩̙͔ 0̲̱̖͇͔1̫̩͉̱1̙0̳̣1̨̬̞͙̘͎͔ͅ0̛̼00̼͖̯̟̙͍ 0̥̳̦̺̦̠1̟͇̮̝1̠̞͙̞͉͉̝0̧͔̯̬1͔͈͇͎̣1̶1̘͔̟̲̗̲̞1̺̯̫̼̯ ̣̕00̢̦͚̤1̜0̳͔̙͢0̯̯̫̥0̠͈͉0̬ͅ0̙̥͈̯̱ ̱̜͙͞0̖̮̻̠̦1̞͓̪̦̹͇͖1̫̣̖̹0̺̳͓͘0̶̦0̦0̸͔̪͉͇̳̱ͅ1̹̲̺͈̟ ̸̟̭̫̪̰̗0̡͓̞1̲̮͝1͈̻͞0̮̲̤1͕̙͚͔1̢0̢͙̗̪̗1̼ ҉͍̲̩̻̙̦ͅ0͓̼͢0҉1͏͚̹̺̜͍ͅͅ0̼̳͎0̞̯͖̠̣̣̫͝0̬̭͍̺̫̹͈0̢̹0͉ ̵̩͔0͓͙̥͔͢1̗̝͢1͍0̸̠̣̘1̢̜0͉̺̹̗̻͍͕0̼̮̗̻͞1͚̯͔̠̟ ̼͍͎͉0̮͓͓̼ͅ0̳̯1̷͚̗̯0̼̱͍͘0̱̼̫̱̘0̜̻͓̣͉0̲̜̮0̶̺͙͎̣̱

you open your eyes and you exist. you don’t know who you are but you know that you are.

you stare at a ceiling and hear a man’s voice. _this is already the thirteenth one. it better work out_. there are hands on you, pulling you up. you stare at the faces of two humans. one of them smiles and gives you a hug.

“welcome back, hyungwon.”0҉̳͙̻̗1̡1̗̳̙̦1̗̭̯̭̙͇͍01͏͈̗̲̥͖̫͚11̸͎̼͖̬͉ ̜͇͙0͇͈͟1̜̯͓̻̲̭̝1̖̝̗̺̫̣0̭̙̪̞̲1̜̼͓0̲̮̫0̵̱͕0͉̞̥ ̵̫̹0͖̺̤̳ͅ1̢̺1̙͕͖̤̼̼̟0͇̯̭̘̣̯̲1̯͇̳̦1̼̣̞͖͓1̸̪͕̲1̳̣͟ 0̢͈̟ͅ01̤̰͍̕0̟͎͓̣0͇̗͓̦0̗0̹͉͍͙0̰̹͖̹̥̲̕ ̢̗̰̣0̙͖̮͔̯̦1҉̜1͔͙̭̖0҉̳͎̭̟̟ͅͅ1̢̪͓0̨͔̫̮0̸̭̫̠1͏͍͍͚̙͖̰͚ ̦̳01̨̞̜1̶͎1̢̰̮͉̩̫ͅ0͓̪͝0̜͍̼̳1̯͓͈1̷͎̹̰̻̭̩̞ ͇̥͚͔͔̭0̖͍̞̭͇͠0͘1̛͈̤͚̯0̜̟͍̥̝0̤̜͍̤͖̲̲0̴0̙͖̭͙0̨̪̺͍ 0͇̹̮̘1̪̖1̭̬̜0̜̭͈1̞0͈̙ͅ0̺̣0̹̳̣̫͍̦̫͢ ͔͖̻̳0̣̘1̛̖1̘̟̟͖̹͈̫1̭͢1̸̘̪̗̘̯̙0̛̯̘͚̱0̧̙̺̬̤̜̣ͅ1̴ ̛̦̥̖̫0͏̜͎1͓̻̮̲͟1̵̲̱̣̳̬1͓̗̪̖0͚̺̣̺͓͓͘1͏̹̣̞0̛̟̜̦̥1͔͓̖ ͈̫̹̝0͏̤͚͚̝̗1ͅ1̖̫͚̩̯͔̩0̻1̘̙̼͍̟1̘1͓̯̜̭0̣̦̝̮̺̲̖ 0̴̙1̠̻͙̞̮1̙̙̜̮̪̞̝0̥͇̰̱͈͠0̴̜̫̥̺1҉̤̟̫1͚̣͖1͞ ͕̝̙͈0̻̟1̝̫͓̱͙1̞̮͓1̝̮̹̞̜̝͖0̛ͅͅ1̵̭11̙͉̹ͅ ̦̜͕͞0͏̯̹͚̠͎̯1͙̘̰̠̯1̦̺̦̻0̡̥̯̝̲̹1͍͉̟̮͓1̲̙̰̯͓̥̠1͇̥1̠ ͔0̤͕̜̣̞͎1͈͕̯͟1̮̣̠̩ͅ0̶̭̻̺͍̻1̹̠̗̥͇1͚̥͎̮̼̲̼1̲̤̠̹0̙̲͕͉ ̰0̬̫̖͟0̸͖͇͚̗̩̱1̶̞̻̯0̭̟0̞̤͖0͞00̜̩̺ͅ ̢̬͚01̵̰͈̼͈1̛̤̱̜̥̱͙̯1̬͓0̥͓͎̣̱1̬̻1̣̜̥̥̘̰͍͡1 ͈̤̹0̛̻͙̩̗̺̠̗1̖̰͓̗1͡0͙̣̳̖̻1̺̱̱͉͢0̮͓̜͓͡0̧̰̳͖0̶͈͔̫̟̯͍̗ ̷̺0̝̙̪̪̘͇̪͡1̲̗̗͖̹̝͉1̯̝̘͓͎̟͍0҉͉1͕̯̺̭̟1̨͙͔1͔̺̯1 ̖̝̻̲̝ͅ0͜0̜̙͢1̴̝͇̪̝͙̣ͅ0͔̙̳͍0̡̹̜̯0͉̳̯͜0̱̝̣̼̝̟̹͢0͉̖̲̟ ͖͡0̶̥͎̖̰1̹̩͉̟̻̱̥1̵͕̜͔̭̱0̭̘͍1̬͉̹͎̞͕0̻̪̪̱̩͢01̤͎͖̹ͅ ͈̱̖̭̭͓͙0̼1̪̗̥̯̺1̠̘͉̺1̢̠̭̹̮̲0̱̼̕ͅ0͏̦͕͚̺͙̠1̧͉̹̥1̹͍͘ ̢͔̭͇̭̲ͅ0̼̝̥͇0̭̮͓̙̼ͅ1̖͎̙0̜̪0̝͍͙͜0̟͖̪̙̗͈͇0̬͉̗̜ͅ0̡͎̬̰̯ ̤̞͕͎ͅ0̖͈̻̹̯̝̼͠1̶͓͚̼̘͎̻̜1̖̝͚̥01͕͍̗̘0̪̳̥̼͕͍0̝̯̖̯͍͙̞0̙͡ 0҉̘11͕̖̼̹̠̠͟1͓͍̲͈ͅ1̲̺̤̖̣0̣̪̠̼͕0͎̪̯͙̫̻͖1̦͙͙͠ ҉͓̯̰̜0̞̰̰1̷̰̤͖̯̠1̻͙͙͕̗10̛̲1͖͕͉̖̻̜̲0̩̤̤̟̗͎1͕̞̩̹̰͙ ̱0͎̯̲̼̜̠͎1̜̥̭͠1̡͚̜͚̤͈̥0͏1̢̝̤̥͙̠1͙̕1͉0͝ ̳͓̜͖͍̜ͅ0̴̰͚11̙̗̺̘̖̠̜0̞̮̝̫̺̹̗0̵1̸̼̖̞̬1̣̜1̝̟͈͕ ̬̺̪̭0͎̕1̱͖͜ͅ1̢̖͚͕̟1҉̟̼̣0̯͔̜111̤͠ ̠̣̯0̵̦̣͉̮ͅ1͚̙̣̘1̰0̺̺͉̲̬ͅ1͓̖̫̠̥̺ͅ1̮̹͚1̟͎͎1̵̮̦͉̦̘ ͚̖̭͓̯̠0̙̼̻̖̝̦1͔̮1̸̘̳̱0̻̦͔̱̝1̷̘͍̝̟̳ͅ1͇͔̘͚̩̥1̤̝̕0͙͉ ̰͙̱̺̠͉0҉̺01̠̹͇̳͔͓͠0̬͚͈̩͍͢0̣̪̺̰̹͎̲0͙̼͓͎̦͓̞͠0̞͍͙0͟ ҉͉͈0҉1̘̺͔1̥̮͔͉̰̪1̗̫̜͙̳͡01ͅ1̯̗̻̼1̧ ̥̖̱̺̖͎01̜̩̩̯̠͘1̖͖͡0͇̦̟ͅ1̙̗͔̻0̻͇̰̠͚̻͓͟0̡͙0̤̠̫̞͖̣͠ ̹̼̻0҉̹̩̝͚ͅ1̛̹̪1̠͉̲̥͈͈0͚͙̥͈̮͍͢1̶̬̖̪͎̪̲̜1̵̖̝̦̪1͏̝͕̫1̙͎̩͇̮͢ ̞̥̠͚ͅ0̴͇̻̘̜͍̹͖0̝̘1͔͍͉̟0̢̭00̵͈̝̺̰̭̤̫00̪̳͎̟̳͓͎͡ 01̢̹1̪̯͘0͚̟̳̬1̦0̪͉̺̬͎0͢1̯ ̴͖̬̝0̕1̸̮̬1̥͕̣̞͕1̻͓̥͙̗̮͞0̳̞̞̝̣͟ͅ0̘̹̼͡1̪̖1͎̪ 0͉0̠̭̠1̰̜0̧̭͙̞̹̳̰͙0̵0̯0͉̭̙0͇̞͝ ̭͈̹͓̹̖ͅ0̶̮̫̞̜̦1͏1̦̮͈̫̜01̹̳0̖̲̠̙͈͔̟͝0̶̣͍͕͓͍̫0͚ ̛̜0̳̮̼͕̯̜1̙̦̪̕1̤͠1̟̗̟͇̗͉1͔͠0̵0͖̥̤͍̻̰͇1̭̙͙ͅ ̨̯̝͙̠̮̱͎0̵͖̖̦͓͓̱̭1͇1̨1̡̹0̝̖͕̞1͢0̗̤͓͎͓1 ̛̬͙͔̱̬01̠͎̫͙ͅ1̥̯̹͡0̮̤̥̝1̪͔̜̖̳̩͖1͏̺̺̱͓1̯̖̝͔̹̲͝0̜ ̯̱̮͖̺̙̹0̶̙͔͓̗̯̼̱1̡̠͍͙̠͕̙ͅ1̧̖̫0̦͉̦̗͖̟̻0̴̬͇͎͓̪1̦̯̠͙̞1̵̤1͘ ͔0̻̳1̶ͅ1̳̲̻̜͚̙̥1͖̘0̻̜͕͟1̫̺̗͈̭͉1̬̦͚͇1̙̪͇̘ ͇0҉̝̰1̯̬1̤̖̥͕͖͕0҉̬1̺͎̥̪͞11̺̥̙̦1̶͔̟̩̘̝̘ ̳̹̝̭0̯͠1̧1͚̞̝̭͖̭ͅ0̼̳̫̦1̩̫̦̭̞1͉̮̹̖̝̜1͉͕0̗͕͙̲͚̰ ̖̭̙̥0̝͈̪̭0͉͔͍͔͓̫͟1̜̥̺͙̳̻0̺̙̪0̡͙͚̗0̠̗͖͓̫͞0̖̮̲̮̥͖̠0̗̭̖̼̲ ͓͖̲̱̖͖0̫̻̮̪͞1̫͓1͈͔͈̕1̧͚̱̮0̝̙̠1͓̥̻͎1͍̣̰1̠͕͕͇̥ 0̦̮͈͢1̲͈̺1̤̯̹̩̹0̭̭̭̬͕͇͚1͕̞̞̜̪͎̩͠0̴̭͚̘̹̰̗̘0̦̹͎0͝ ̳0̼͍̩1̩͚̗ͅ1̲͇̮͚̰̣0̗͎̜̦͈̬̗1̵̤̙1̲͖̭̫1̵̤͙͇̼͇͈ͅ1 ̴͔̪0̷̼̲͉̯͓̰̹01̘̟̭͇͜0̶̥̝0̙0͙̠͍̖̳͈0̱̥͚̱̱͍̭0̶ ҉0҉̹1̴̭̯͈̞̝1̶̞̝̜̦̩͈0̱͔0̗0͖̟0͖͝1̧̥ ͓̺̭̩̳̥̣͝0̵̪1̧̠̲̞͕̟̪͓1͕̯0̹̥̞͉1͍̞̦̲͙͘ͅ1̘̫̙̲̰̘̫0̣̗̠̘͍1̮̪̻ ̳̮̖͎̼͢00̣̹̰1̟͓̠̣0̬̪͚͟0̢̞̠0͔͎̠̜0͏̱̖͓0̯̬̤͇̺ ̰̬͔0̴̞̮̣1͟1̗͓͉̲͢0̰̣̜1̩̟͈̠̫̱0͍̮̠̖0̮͝1̹͓̻ ̵͙0̧̥0̺̮̞͓1̳̻͎ͅ0͉͎͕̜̬̹̯0̪͎̳̟̭̺0̴͔̝͚̞0̴̙̠̭͚̪̭0̪so he takes their bowls and brings them to the kitchen. his apartment isn’t big but there would be space enough for both of them to sleep over. it wouldn’t feel right for kihyun to let jooheon out onto the streets at night.

when he returns to the living room after washing the dishes the soft static of an old radio greets him. it’s an antiquity he once picked up from the trash, not unlike the android that’s currently playing around on the radio’s buttons. his brows are furrowed in concentration, pink tongue peeking out at the edge of full lips. he looks a bit like an overgrown kid; curious and wide eyed and still possessing the internal drive to explore, when life hasn’t yet turned into repetition and dull habit.

“it doesn’t work anymore.” kihyun says. jooheon looks up at him before _thirteen_  does.

“why do you still keep it then, hyung?” jooheon asks, purses his lips for a moment and winces the very next one when the ache returns. the android places the radio aside and looks at him, expectant.

“i don’t throw away things just because others do. there’s beauty in everything. even if said thing is broken.”

*

his bed is too small for all three of them. jooheon is a furnace, burning up where he’s pressed against his back. _thirteen_  is silent, eyes closed and long lashes twitching every now and then. kihyun knows he’s awake. he also knows that _thirteen_ knows he’s watching him.

“do you not need to sleep or is it that you can’t?” kihyun mumbles. he can see the android inhale -- an action he knows is by far not necessary, but a welcome familiarity of the faux humanity the android is simulating. a second later, _thirteen_  opens his eyes and turns his head towards kihyun.

he can’t respond, there was no point in asking; except after another moment _thirteen_  reaches for kihyun’s hand. his skin is warm and supple, fingertips a feathery caress as he brushes it over the palm of kihyun’s hand. it takes him an embarrassingly long second to realise that what the android is doing is signing his answer.

‘i can’t.’ he writes, three times over before kihyun understands and mouths the words back at him.

“why not?”

‘i’m trying to remember who i am.’

“it will come back to you.” kihyun says in an attempt to be encouraging. _thirteen_  doesn’t let go of his hand yet, keeps long slim fingers wrapped loosely around two of kihyun’s and nods. he closes his eyes again and turns his head away. an exhale later, kihyun follows suit.

*

when he wakes up again, neither _thirteen_  nor jooheon are next to him, but there’s enough noise coming from the living area that the panic that rises in his throat like a drumming heartbeat is brief. he goes to the bathroom first, brushes his teeth, washes his face. from the open kitchenette he can see jooheon in front of the stove. he can see him attempt to fry something in the pan. the android is curled up on his couch with a pillow pressed against his chest and yesterday’s dirty clothes on his body.

“good morning,” kihyun mumbles. _thirteen_  turns to look at him and out of pure self-consciousness, he brushes a hand through his hair to0͚1̶͇1̝̭͖̕0̭̻̻͡1̟̳̦͖0̪̗̺̭͇̥0̘͖͓1̞̣ ̺̣0͎0̼̜͔̲͇1̪͎̟͙0̺0ͅ0̹̝00̧͔͇̳̦͓ ̹͎͜01͕̟̺̞̹̩͟1͓̺̳͢0̤̲0̸̘̪͕̜̬͓̣0̢̳̖̜̯͕̪̰0͈̻̜̥̲͔̭1 ̻0̸̝̼̳1͖͙͇͔͖͉1̺̻0̵̝1̯̰̝̠͍͜1̤0̲̬̩͓̹ͅ1̝ ̴̦̙̜̩̭0͖̰̬̬̦̙̣0̸̩1̦͚̥0̜͔͖̪ͅͅ0̝͇͎̺̬̬͕0͝00҉̳̖̪ ̰͔̹̙͘0̗͉1̷͈̠1̲̖̤͇̺̲ͅ1͉0͏͇̗̥1̴͕͙͕̰̤̹̳0҉̜͖̟͉͇0̟̗͉̟͚ ҉0͈̠̘͎͈͡11̶͍0̱͚̩̼̮1̤̦̰̙͈̦͜0͈̩0̡0 ̡͇͇͇̰̜͓̖0̶̗1̹̲̞̠̯101͈͢0̤0̨̞̱̹1͏̞̠͓̰ ̬̯͇̞̣͎͜0̦̻̲͚̰̕1͚1̠̭1̝̹̙̦0̜͓̲̭̕0̴̫̗̗̟͖̠1̣̤0̰̙̰͇͍̹̰ ͍͕̣͙̭ͅ01͈1̟1̲͔̳͎͍͔͇͝0̢1҉̖̥̮̤͍ͅ0̜͙͔̣ͅͅ0̭̣͓̫̦̳̱ 0̙̭͈͍̘̮ͅ1̵͇̼͉̟̟̭1̹͎0̘̩̣͎͍0̘͔̝̬͓͡1͚̭̖̺̫̮͇0͍1̳̰͈͉ ̧̲0̻̫̼͎̲̩ͅ1̴̱̭̱̙͈͙̞1̨̮͓̘̘̮̺̟0̠0̛̳1̤͞0̻̲̳̝̬͖1̥̬ ͔̳͔͔͚0͏͍̖̭̦͖1͇͠1̝̖0̖̝̪̙̬͙1̩̳̬̞̟͡1̴͙̹1̴̼̲̝̺͕0̢͕̰̭͙ ̛͚̠̼̹̥0͉̦͚̮̕ͅ01̹͎̖̰̲̤̭0͏̥͓̻ͅ0̝̭̱̥0̥͕̣̼̟̳0̴̲̟̙͓0̹ ̷̤͚̣0̯̫̗͉͞ͅ1͎̩̟̱̝̦1̥0̪̪̱͇̘1̖̖͚̱̟0̼̮0̖͖̦1̭̳͍̤ͅ ̴̦̬0̨͉͉̞0͎͓̘͖̜͕1͉̯̰̦͔ͅ0̨̘̩̜̮0̯͜0̖0͈0 ̰͔͖0̹̜̬̩͜1̡̟͎̦10̞͎̱̣̻0̥0̡͖͇̗͎̪0̟̳1̫ ̹͕͍̱0̮̻̖̞̱1̡̯͔̮1̶0̷1͏1̵̘͎̭̖͍̯0̭͇ͅ1͎̙̻̠̹̯ͅ ̯̹͚0͏̘̺̻̱̮0̮100̻͕͕͔̯00̮͔̥̝̗ͅ0̼̪ ͔̹̣̱̦͓̱0̸̳1̹̙͔1͔͓̹̼ͅ1͓̱͉͚̩̝0̣̹͖̟̯ͅ1̡0̱͎͘0͔̜̤ ̮̤͟0̷̲̠̻̤̳̥1҉1̻͍0̢͚̬̫̗͍̘̯1͍̳0͏͇͚̱̲̫̙0͔̭0̢̰͓̱ ̩͔̦̝̕0̺͇̝͘1̝͚͉̪̬1̻͍̮̫̪̤0̟̮͘1̧̦͙0̢̙̤̭̜̜̪0͉͓͈̩̱1̞̙̬̣̱̤ ̸̰0̥͉͜1͏̤11̷0͓0̶͙1̙̼͓0̞̗̞̗͕͟ ͕͚011̥̘͙̺̟1̖͚͞0͍̪̦͇̲̝̜1̳̫̱̗̥0̸0̡̮̗ ̹̼̺͙̠0̲̳̙̝1̶̳̫̻1҉̫̪͇̫̞̹0͘0̸͓1͕̖͖̪̱̕ͅ0̻̲͖1̰̟ ̷̞̲011̜ͅ0͙̜̣͓̝0̛̩1͏̣̝0̫̫̫͢1̯͖̜͙̫͈ ̞̗̲̻ͅ0̸͓̞̬̙͔̘̻1͖̱̹̰̫͠1̷0̛̖͎̘1̸͎̠̟̘̞͕̹1̝̭̗͈̝1͓̗͔͍͕̥̳0̪͈ ͔̠̫̼00̧̤͍̣̜̳͈̻1̕00̟͖̥̖̲͈͢0̩͕0̜̦̠͕͖͉͘0 ͢0̟ͅ1̟͞1͎̬͈̥͔͜0̻͚1͓0͕͔̯̭͚̗̕0̹͙͇1̥̰͝ ̺͕̙͔ͅ0̯0̗͇͔̤̗͞1̷̱̹00̧̪̦͎̥̤̩0͈͓0͇̹͚̤0͎̭̼̼̳̬͡ ̲̬̼̭0̠1͟1̯͚͓̬̖͈̜0̴̣̜̖̝͍̗̪0ͅ0̛̹ͅͅ01͝ ̼0̡̱1͢1͚̱̠̭̟̯0̸͎̱̳͍͔̪1̩1̲͙̲̜̠0̬̥̫͞1̟͙ͅ ̧0͉̙̦̲̕0̸1̱0̺̮̜̗̜̖ͅ00͍͓͖ͅ0̰̟̘̺̖͔0̠͓̘̮ͅ ̯͘0̸1͕̰̮̤͎̲̫1̨̩͍̣͔͚̮͇1̻̪̫̞͖̮̳0̛̰͖̼̹1̰͚͉̩̬̠͕0̨̙0̠̦̮͕̖̹ ͕̜͍0̸̹1̴̗1͓͕͇͇̞͖0̲̞̞̳̳̫̜1̭͈͍̖0͈͘0̠0̫̙͓ ̣̗̭ͅ0̖͎̟̙1̡̳̜1̬̻̜̭0̘͍͔1̹̪̣̟͎0͍͘0̖̖̣͎̰1̝̘͢ ̼͔͍̰͖0̳͍̹̱͖1͜11̘͇̠̮̫0̲͖̙̫͓0͏͓1̨̗̫̹̹̜0̩̪̻̲͈͈̹ ̤͕̠0̜͍͈1̫̞1̳̗͟1̳͈͚̩̰0̸͇͍1̫̺̪̩͞0̜0̗͚̺̭̼ͅ ̧0̧̜̥͇1͠1̷̜̙0̹̟͔01̴̲̮̠̯͖0̛̼̝͚͉̺̱̱1̲ ̠̦0͖̰̤1̟̖10̴̯̼̤̖̜0͎̖̩͉̺̘1̪0̙̳̰͍1͇͚̭̗͓̰͇ ̵̣͎0̼̭̯̠͈͉1̭͍̖̱̞̥1̛͈̟0̢̤̻͕̞1̢̞͉̠̥̘̫1̜̤̯̪̣̦1҉͇̞̝̝͉0̭͕̫̼͢ ̙͇͇̘̳̕ͅ001͕͢0͈̼̭0̴̪͓͈̲͈̻̹0̲͇͘0̮̱͉͓0̤̪̩͕̼̫ͅ ̜̝̩͉̼0͇͚͍̲̬̝̠11̬̩̬͚01͇̤͉̦͙̮̝0̲̮̻0͎̤̳0͖ 0̘̝̜̣͜1̮̫̯1̞͕͖0̙̗͇̻̠̳0̟̖̭͓̲1̯̫̭͓̬͚̦0̹͉̱̜̙͡1̷ͅ 0̴̺̠̼0̳͓͚̦͞1͈̪̟0̦̜̗͍̪͕̠0͈͈̯̮̮̪̞0̹̱̻0͖0͘ ̣̙̞̺̞̼̳̕0̼̯1̡̞101̖͙̗͎̟͍͞0̺0͍̱͔̮̺ͅ1 ҉͔͇̹̰0̘͈̳̖̱̰1̸͇͉̟̻͉̗11̥̣͉̩̭0̣̦0̖̲͔̯1̷̪1̫͈͚͕̯̜͝ ͕͔̯0̯̲0̦͢1̜͔̺̯̳͡00̨̠̟̻͇̰̫0̧0̯̤̗͓̯̜0̮͈͎̬ ̱͕̗̦̗͎͖0͍̗1̸͍̟͔̙̫̥̳1͏0̗̙̼̩̺̼͈1̛0̡̠̩̦̤0̷̯̦͉͓̬͈0̤̰̦ ̱̜̱0̮̘̹̪͙1͓͈̺̣͟1͎̯̦͙͙̱ͅ1̛̫1̹͓̦0̵̣̻̮̬͙͔0҉̥͕͙̠̪͈̳1̯̥̪͔̞ͅ ͔̪̜0̢̹̫̺̖1͖͘1̴͉̗͙ͅ1͖0̲͖1̨̫̫̖̰0͍͚̩1͙ ̦̰͈͟0̛̜̬̫̭̟͈1̲̤͠1̰01҉1̨̳͖̬̻͖̺1̖͕͓̱͎̩̱0̲̟̣͡ ͘0̸̗̼1͘1̖̕0̜͈͢0̘͕1̭͉̻̬̰̳͇1̠̞1̞̙͓̫̪͕͈ ̳̻̕0̹͕͎1̖̱̳͝1̮͚̭̦̹1̢͓̜͕̺̭͇ͅ0͉̥1̯̠̘̯̱ͅ1̸1̲̲͉ ͓̥̮̥̪0̮̫1͖̲͙̠͞ͅ1͈͓̞̳̱0̷̦̟̞̞͔͕1͏1҉͔͈̣̣̮̟̜1̫͚1̷ ̶̹̭̗̟̼0̘̗̦͇ͅ1̦͙̩̤̟1̧̙̺0͙͎͓̳͟1͎̬͈̙̼̣͞1͙͕̦̩1͟0̧̫you know that you are and what you are is _thirteen_. the thirteenth attempt to make things right.

they didn’t tell you more. you aren’t supposed to know, you’re only supposed to be. there’s a room you stay in, completely white. the shelf is filled with books you have never heard of. the walls are bare of anything except a handful of pictures.

you stare at a family portrait. your own face stares back at you. it’s the face of a boy you’ve never met. his name is hyungwon.0̴͙̝͎͚͎̥̭1͘1̡̬͕1̛̗̝͓͖ͅ0̳̘̯̘0͇0̙̞͈0̡̝ ͎͉̮̣̤̜͓0̭͖̩̺͙̩1̸̳̝͕1̢̰̣̠̹0͙̮̱̖1͇̣͢1͇͚̰̰̘͙0̶͚͖̟̻0̯̯̰͜ ̙̺0̧͙̹̗̗͔1̹̝1͇̟̭̦̱̤0͏̠̘̗͎̪̜͕01̩̟̻̹̰0̹͇̫͟1͓̱̗̝ ͙̖̝̳̮ͅ0̨̘1̧͙͍̹̱͇͍͙1͇̞0͏̳̫͕̦̻̖̲0̭̪̖͡0̖͎͖̱̰0͈͎̭͘1͉̕ ̣0̰͍͎̙̥̤͈͢1̜̦1̢̠͉̘̦̣1̹͠00̱̝̼̖1̦̻̲͡1̰ ͙̣̰͚̪0̰̟̹͖1͕̮̞̫1̥̭͚̺ͅ0̦̲͚0̘͍̻̰͈̫͕1͇͖̮0҉͍1̴̫͇̤̮̣ ̴0̹̤0̧͙̠͎̘̗1̱̜͉̲̙͓̤0͈̣̺̼͓͝00̪0̭0̵͎̯̫ ̡͈̪͖̪0̗̦̳̤͝1̨̖̼̭̼1̜̝̱̞̝̯̬1҉͍̖̣̠0̣͉̭̘͉0͏̪1̧̗̱̥̭1̫̫͔͇̩̩ ͍̥̼0̨͖̖1̫͚1̶͍1̧̼̠̹̻͓0̰̥͉͉̘1̢0̹͎̙̞0 ̞̖͓͎͎̤̫̕0͙͕̟̟̠͜1̩̜͔͟ͅ1͏0̪͔1̴͚̻1̭̱1̛̯͇̗̹̥̩̰1̻̝͓̘̤̖̯ ̷0̵͙̥͈̹̣̫1̭̗͈̯̙ͅ1̹̘͈͔̟1̰̫̪0̛͎̤̮̰͇͖0̩̪̺0̱̖͉̗̣0̻̜͍̹̜̬̤ 0͎̤͜0͙̯̣̰̟̳ͅ1̯͍̘͇̜0̜͕̥͇̜̬͜0͉̭̣̥̮̕ͅ0͔00͘ ̝̝̲̖̺0̙͕1̡̝̺̤͇1̱͉̲̖͓̬0̢̤͕͇̞̮̻11ͅ0̭̳͎̼̣͍̜͟0̘ ̜̦̻͓͙0̟̻̬̫̮͈1̟̘̟͠1̱̳̜͎1̷͕1͓̟͔0̺͓̣̖̲̮̭0͈͍̝͚̦̭͞1̼͙͉̭ ̛̠̘͓̝̲̪̦0͈̼͘1͕1̵̠̱0̬͙̳̩͙̗͟1͚̱̭̖̯0̭͇͘01̸̹̫̬͇̥͖ ̞̮̱0͎̻͓̕1̵̺͕1̨0̼̗1̛̹̫̱1̺͈̫1̧0̬̠̻̺͝ ͓͖͙͈0͍̤̯1̨̪̳1̘0̡̬̤̩͓̖͉0̛̝1͇̖̖̥͈͚̣1̢̖͎̰̞̯͙͍1̠͡ ͕̬0̤͈̥̩̬0̸1͙͔͖̱̩0͠0͔̳̞̠͈0҉̪̠0̶͚̯0̺͚͈̱ 0̯̫̱ͅ1̖̭1̜͜01̦͇̠001̸̯̙̻̳̫ ̶͈̫̮ͅ0̸̖̻0̧1̛0̱̗͍͙͠ͅͅ0̭̼͕̤͉̲̣0̵̝͓͖͓͔0͜0̶͓͚̬̰ ͏͈͇͉̟0̠̗̠̲1̩̰̩̫̬1̫̙0̳̥̙̟͍0̲̥̮̳0̥̞̻̦̱̭͡0̮͍͔1̤ ̠͔01̪͕̭̹̝̼͠ͅ1͈̺̰͍̘̳͞0̗̦̺̩1̛̟1̡̼̳0̰̬͔͙̰͟1̛̮̪̱ ̤͔̣̹̙0͖̙̙̯̫̘̲0̥̺1͏0̶̭̲͓̪̝0͈̩͕̗̱͜0̟̦̣̰̜̺̘0̸͉̗͙̳̪̖̙0̬̜̕ ̬̳̤̰0̠̤͇1̰1̰̫̘̜͇͍͡0͎̠͓̗̘̥1̼̦̖̰1̷͉̥̗̲̙1̤͇̲0 ͢0̩̬̫͉̜̬ͅ1̱͈͙̗̻͔1͍̲̱0̲͓1͍̯̤̝1͕1͚̺̹̦͙͙1 ͇̘͇0̸1҉̜̫̰1̵1̢̼̩̻̙0̠̙͍͙̠̜1͇̬͚0̺̯͎̮͎͉̰0̷͍̥͖̻͕̜ͅ ̧̱͎͖͈0̙̘͚̥͠0̖̼̟̙̤͠1̥̥͕͚͜0͓̮̦̫̯0͏̺̭͕̺̝0̲͉͍̫͕͢0̙͕̞͢ͅ0̩ ̠͇̘̻͖̟0̖1̳̠̣͖̯̰̞1̼͖͍̹̪̖̠0̵1̜̙̹͙͙̩0̰͎̱͙̬̘̱0͞0 ̛0̮̱͔̞̥̙1̙̫̼̰1̷̗̠͇̥̺̤0̦̬͖1̜̠̱̯̫̜̗0̖͙͕͡0̡1͖̻̥̼̟͖͝ ͕̰̜0̳͕̲͚͕̱11͚͇ͅ0̰̳̝̣̠̲̕1͙͘1̯̯0̦͇̗̤̳̰̟1̼͙then there’s the memory of the warm hand that was clasped around his. kihyun remembers falling asleep surrounded by warmth, almost suffocating. none of that momentary intimacy is visible now, when kihyun sits down on the couch and _thirteen_  curls away from him, curls closer into himself. he has the body of a relatively tall, young man; long and slender limbs and a delicate build, but when he curls up, he seems minuscule. as if he’s going to bleed into the fabric of the couch.

“--i go home today?” jooheon’s voice filters through his thoughts and he breaks his involuntary staring contest with the android to turn towards the kitchenette.

“what?” kihyun asks at first, then allows the question to filter through his memory again to piece together what he had been too distracted to hear. “why would you want to go home already? you’re more safe if you hide away here and i can sleep at ease knowing you’re not lying in some dark alley and bleeding to death.” jooheon purses his busted lips, but doesn’t say anything in reply. kihyun knows that he likes knowing someone worries about him. that someone cares.  
“if you want to do something productive, you can help me look for the parts i’ll need to try and get _thirteen_ ’s communication channel up and running again.”

*

it takes a week to organise everything. kihyun has people on the black market he needs to contact for parts and considering how new of a model _thirteen_  is, it’s neither easy nor cheap to get by the proper parts. he settles for inexpensive metals and bits that are so old they might not even work for the android.

the visits to his clinic remain sparse; jooheon’s arrival continues to be the most exciting work he’s gotten to do in the past couple weeks. the occasional common cold patient doesn’t leave a lot of money behind, but kihyun has always been careful about making sure he’s got enough savings.

 _thirteen_  hasn’t left his apartment since kihyun picked him up between two trash cans. jooheon has mostly stayed put as well, apparently blossoming in his newfound role as guard dog. kihyun has noticed the shy glances and red state of his ears whenever the android is close but doesn’t know what to think of it. he gets it, really. the pretty face and warm hands -- kihyun has spent hours mapping the lines of _thirteen_ ’s features while they’re sitting in the same space, or he’s once again lying awake at night.

kihyun gets it. but he also knows that nothing could come out of it.

they build those androids for pleasure, for entertainment. he can imagine what _thirteen_ ’s position in the mob was and knows that feelings of love and affection and tenderness were lost there.

knowing it doesn’t make it any easier to ignore the way _thirteen_ ’s fingers curl around his, brush the skin of his palm, how he scoots closer and smiles at him; sweet and gentle. he’s thankful, surely.

he tells himself the same, even when he feels his heartbeat throb inside his head, loud enough to drown out the sound of jooheon’s chatter while he’s working on the android’s ruined sensor. the anticipation and excitement he feels at the prospect of hearing the sound of his voice are scary. they live in a world where every moment is a brief memory, a short lived creature that is easily crushed between two fingers. with the capital’s growing power, nothing was secure; they might not wake up tomorrow, kihyun might not return home or the black cobra could return to pick up what was originally theirs.

nothing was secure and the hope he felt in connection to something as simple as the sound of _thirteen_ ’s voice terrified him.

it’s a tense process when he closes up the android’s circuit and waits for him to come to again.

 _thirteen_  wakes up. he doesn’t say a word.0̪͉͎1͙͠1̹̤̭̜0̴̣1̩̪̙̱̱0̛̯̘0̱͍̖͎̣͇͠1 ̘̣͚̮̰͙ͅ0̸̗͍̗̻̠0͏̯͈͈̫1̫0̭̺̯͔̩̖0̸̫1̸̰̫̭̼̼1͙̺͜1̪̤ ̶̹̫̹̖̗0̜̬1̵͙͎̥̺1̹͎0̥̫͎͎̜̜̭͜1͍̻͙͡1̹̖̭͉͓͎̞͘0̻͈̝1͏̼̫̗̰̹ͅ ͈͍̺͇0͏̼͓̺͕ͅ0̲̱̥1͍0̝̝̥0̗̪͉0͕͞0̧0̺ ̻͓̪̻͕͔͖̕0̘̘1͕̼̖̙1̥̖͚̤0͍̠̘̯͓͚̼1̘̗1̩̦̪1̜̜͢0̻ ̞̥̩̦̞̟̳0̧̘͍͍̦̠11̯̩͇̣̼̥0̵̗̫̱11͙̻̣͉1̥ͅ1҉͉ ̯̲̬͎̟0͎̱̱͞1̱̘̫̯̣̭1͍̗͢1̪͈̥̱͝0͉̼̘̜͈̼̰1̟̣̩̪̝͢0̩̪̤̠̞̻̤͟0̬̝̳̪̟ͅ ̤̖̰̩0̤̖̠͚̫͓0̙̘̣͍̪̼̭1̛̟͙͉̰0͙̮̙̤0͉̱͈̺̜̳0̢͓̤͉̳0͡0҉̼͍̻͕̰̱ ̫̗̱͚̹̣0̞̮̜͔̠̫1̵̱̭̼1̡̦̙̻̟̗1̥̳̙̖̠̻0̟͓1̛̪̰̠1̵̥͖̜1̴̹̰͍ ̝̜̠0̩̜̬1̞͉͎̻̩1̘̰̝0͙̣̫1̣̤̜͔̰̯̻̕0̰̻͎0̲̖̜̮͇̹̯͠0͇̝̩͍ ͚̤͖̦͓̜̦0̛1̟̹̼͚̻̹̪͢1̨̘͙͙̺0͍̩̜̺1͓̤̮̣̬1̫̜͈̖͚̜̪1̥͎̤͍1̛̜ ̸0̵̼̗̱͉̳̟0͍̠̘͔1͇̙͖̰̪0̛̖̼̳͈0̵͚̙͚0̴͖0̜̣̰̻͔̬ͅ0 0̧̹1̯͙͘1̵͍1͙̲͓ͅ0͎͙1̡̞̯̙͙͇ͅ00̫͉̺͞ ̠̲ͅ0͙̝̗̣ͅ1̟̯͔͎̰̦̭1̼͍̪͙̺̝̼͟0̳1̵̳͖̦0͚00͇̗̗ ̙̯̥̘ͅ0͉͙̞1̭̱͈̳͝1̩̭̝̯0̸0̱̦̹͎͚̞̖1̛̲͚0̶͔1҉̹̟͙̦̪ ̧͖͖̝̘͓͙0̖̙̱̲̥͢ͅ1̞̝1͖̕1̞̙͖1̲̠̼̜͇0̦͇̘͘0̙͕̬̖̟ͅ1 ͏͎̜̙̬̥̜͕0͡0͍̬̲͇̱̘̜1̝̭̣̘̖̼͚0̪̥͍̖̻̼0҉̠̼̺̫0̩̦0̘̜͚̜͚0̴͙ ͕̮͙̩0̡1̝̟1̣̳͍̲ͅ1̕0͈̻̻̙ͅͅ11̫̮̯͎̘̞̺͜1̤̜̣ ̟͙̘̪͡0̠̲̙̯̲̘̞͡1͓̪̮̭͎̬ͅ1̞͡0̭̯̮0ͅ0̪̰͈̱̣̯0̢̮̳1͍̞͇̩͔͕̲͡ ̭̖̜̤̘̗̗͢0͍̳͙͢1͎̲͈͕͡1͕01̤̣1͓̝̬͎̹͢10͎̖͕͠ 0͏1͚̫͙̘̲͡ͅ1̦1̫̫͍ͅ01̥̱00 ̛̠̰̞0̹͓̲͕̬0̠̮̖̟̣̕ͅ1̣͕0̪̯̥͍̹̘0͓̜̫̜͜0͚͈̖͕̰0̧̦̥̜̥͈̘0̖̠͝ ̩͕̭͙̻̘͔0͙1̼̫̣̳͠1͇͔͡0͉̮̟̲̙͡1̦͖̬̱1̴̼͖̜̩͔̟0͇͔̭͉͖1̘̰͚̼̤ ͎̥͇̬̣ͅ0̵1͍̲͢1̸̺͉0̬̬̰͖0̨̲1̲͔̜0̝͚̯1͖̤͉̼̠͓̫ ̴̰̤0̕01͓̘͉͖͈̖͈0̜͉0̼̤̹̟̠̱͟0͚͖̘̱͓͝ͅ0̢̲̘0̮̹̟̦ ̟̣0̺̰̯̹1̩̼̠̩͎͙1̟̩̰̥͍̹1̵͚̖̗͕̹̞0҉̺̟1͇̝̙̯00̶̹ ͔̥͚̩̣͞0̖̣͈̣1̪̝̣͍̯̻ͅ1͏̫0̛̳̱̲͉̪1̪͙̲̰̘͔̭1͔̝̞͓͢1̲̭͔̹1̝̭̗̯ ̧͚̤0͇͇̼̣̘̹͡0̬̭͔̫ͅ1̬̩̺̱̣̺͞ͅ0͍̘͙̹0̹͚͖00̢̳̠̞̫0 ̩̠̻̰̟̫̼0̨̻̥̞1͇͉̮̩̩1̡̱͈̪̘ͅ0͝0̼͍̜̥̻̹̦0̷͚̳̩̬1̦͍̯0̦͓̥̱ ̠̣͉̹̘̙01̫1̙͘0̞̯̠͖͚̕0͇̤͚͜ͅ1͖͇̠0̨̯̜1̦̣̱͉̠͕͞ͅ ͚͚̫͙̜0̵̱0̪̥͓̼͉͟1̯̙̻͓͇0͈̮͍00̰̲̺͈̩̳͚0̛̬̲̖̥̣̟̯0͓͍͠ ̦0̰̻̣̕1̨̤1͈̹̪̺̪͙0̶͎̼͎̦1̲̬̠̲̦̱0҉̘͈̲̝̥͎͚01̳͓̝ ̢̯̳̝0̡̪̤̰̖0̵̲̬̲̙1̝̳̦̪̻͈͞0͕̟0͙̹̭0̩͉̬̫0̻0̻̰̠̠̣̝̘ ̛̲͚̜0̬̫͎̰̺̦ͅ1̲̺̫͝ͅͅ1͈̥̝͉̳0͉͓͇̠̱̠0̱̟͈͇0̙̩͉1̠͇1̛̦͔͚̘̞̥̭ ͈0̼̹͖̘11̲0̥̜̮̺̬̹00̶̮̜͙̱̩͕̝0͏̗͙1̘ͅ ͇͘0̝̘͎̩1̠̠̟1̥̹̘̭0͢1͚̥̼̺1̹͈̝̖̮1̷͚̹̹̮̭̫0͍̩̤̯̦̱ ̶̙̘̬̯̥0͔͓͘0̷͙̦͇̟̹͓̙1̢̬̩̹͎̥0̟̙0̝̼͉̥̱̕1͚͕͚̯͓̕1̫̲͝ͅ1̛̤͓̥͔̣̱ ̜͚͔̼0̢͕1͓̗͇͔1͇101͈̭͇̳͉̖͡0͕̦͍͉0̨̞̣̜͓̜̭ ͎̱̭0̡̯0̖̘̘1̘̠̥0͉0̱̹͍̭̠̕00̯͇͇0̖̺ ̵͎̱̗̤ͅ0͇̥̼͍̹̬1̴͔͈̥̠̱͈1͈̼͖̰͍̳̜0̵̪0̡̞̫̠̳0̭̞̺10̘̱̫͕͓̟ ̴͈̖͎0̗̫1̖̰͕̖1̢̥00͚͓͇1͓̖̗̞01 ̙̜̟̭̪͓̺0͕̱͟01͖̞̘̟̮0̻͎͍̺̤̖̤00͟0͉͠0͙͓͚ ̙̻͍0̼͉͜1̙̦͎̖1̨1̤̤̪̪0̝͈11͜1̩ ̳͎̦̗0̸͔1̥10̪1̳̮̫̫͓ͅ0̪͉̘͍͟0̛͚̺͕̪0̳ 0̠̘͎͓̯̪͠1̯̟͙̥͇͚̮1͕͓̥̳̝̳0̫͚̟11̠̫͇̝͎͉̱1͓1 ̢̭̪̹̝̹̬͉00͎1̨͕̠000̙̮̩0̻̙͍̘̙͚0̨̲̞̥̼ͅ ̥̟ͅ0͏̲1̜̘̯̟1͏̝͎͔͇1̫̖̣0̞̙͜1̸̰̳̥̲̤͉0̦̺̫̖̻̩͓0̯͈̭͓ ̨͕̤0̛̻̮̺̱͔̩ͅ11̻͖͢0͇̝̜͎̕1̨̘̝̠0͇̩̭̬0̭0̕ ͎̦̕0̻̝̹͎͓͍̪͠1̥̳1̞̠̖̰̰͙͡0͙̲̝͔̺͡01̗̦̗̙̣͘0͜1 ̟̣̗̹̙̳͞0̯̲̗̤̱11̫̲͠1̻̳̼͝ͅ1̘ͅ0̯̳̖0͍̲̯̲̞̯͇1̨͓̬͍̻ ͕̞͎0̷̦͉͔̹͚0͚̙̰̝̞1̪̘̯͕͡0̟̠̪͟0̦͖0̬̥̝00̬͎̼̣̰̠ ͠0̤͉̙̪̖̩͙1̸̺̣͕͇͚1̺̦̟̲̹1̻̦͜0͕̠̮̮͢1̶̻̞̳̗̬̥1̣̖̩̫̣͖͎͘1̵̻ 0̛̪̝̦̼1͔̺̦̳͠1̰͙͕̤0̷̯͖͎0̖͚̗͉0̘͇̟̰0̪͕1̹͇͓͎̤̭ ͇̫0͟1̨͎̼1͇0̨̲͖̬̠1̧̮̦͓͚1̢͉̖̗̼̠1̺̳̦̰̲̺̤0̖̹̬̝ 0̮̳̻͖̬1̠̟͔̣͖ͅ1̰̙̫̳ͅ1̹̬0̮̯̖̜̘͙1҉̱̲0͎͕̜̼0̬͇̦̬̮̪ ̢̞̯̦0̧͎̲̙̩0͖10̦̣0̪͇̝͔0̯͓0̣̥̺̕0̶̼̟̬̜ ̺̬̗͉0͚̙̯̩1̜1͚̤̪̫͎0͈̥̼1̤͈̮0͔0̢1̷ ̴͇̦̰͖͕̜0҉̥̹0̲̺͎͚̥̗10̢͓̹̖̬0͉̝͜1̢̬̜̻̺̲̜̥1̵̭̝͖̲̰̱̭1 ̺̘0͈̫͉̻1̥1̵̤̭͕0͇̟̺ͅ1̢̳̦͎̙ͅ1̞̟0͓̺̠̜͔͕͞1̨̳̣̪ ̠0̳̠̪̫̩̫͢0̬̦̤͙1̞̭͉̝͔0̲0̩͙̣̹̬͞0̴̩0͓0͇͙̦ ̛͕0͝1҉͚͖͖̤̩1̡͈̼0̩͕͚̙̲1͍̰̩̜̘̮͇͘0̫̟͚̠̖͟1̷0̜̺͉̥̰̹̱ ̳0̞1͞1̫͇̲̪͡1͔̼̟̭̮̺0͏1͈̙͙̮̖̹͝0̻͓̺̝͚1 ͕͚01̵͔͎̝̯̝̖1̬̹̥̩͟1̲̝̻̟̬͘0͕͙͓͇̘̭͠0̙͔̹̞̮͙1̘͎͉͕̼̥̰͢1͘ ̶0̼̙͇̦̺͝ͅ1͚̩̱1̱͎͚͕͘ͅ1͏͎͈͇0̗̰̲̙̮̯1̫̫̼̺̼͓̗0̧̲̺̗͔0͓̪͉̬͕͔͞ͅ ͕0͎̜̹̤̼01̡̘̰̤0͞0̧̬̘͇0͓̣0̗͉0̝͈ 0̢̥̤͈̤̰̪̭1͏̥̳͉1̭͔͝0̟͜0̗0̳ͅ01 0̦̹̙̗͖̜͈0͇̹͍1̷̗0̼͠0̷͈̣̘̭0̫̼̪0̞̮̟̬0̵̰̝͉̙̻͉͉ ͖0̹ͅ1̫̫̗̗͉͉1̱̘̭0͎̟͖̭̥͈0҉̥̺̱̞̥0̶̹̺̺1͇1̼̝̫̺͉ ͈̟͔̥͖̳͡0̩̘̩̫̱̻͝1̨̰̹̣̳͔͈1̻͍͙̳0͇1̹̦̤̙͡ͅ1̧̦͇̘͉͍̙1͈͝1̳̥̘͓ ̫͚ͅ0͎͎̝11͇1̤̳̭͝0̥̙̠̱0̗͈̤̟̙͙͞0͇̼̱̩͍̯͢0̭̰̞̭̪͖̘ ̭̩͇̰͈̪̪0̘̻̝1̢̫̝̖̝1͙̼̫̞̰ͅ11̰͇͕̬ͅ0̠͖0̷͚̖̯̲͚1̸̹̠͚̮̘͕ ̸̝0̖̮̗0̭̳̮͖͘1͉̖̟0̬̭͝0̵̫0̦̟̪̻̺̞̕0̙̼̫0̸̬̱̞͔ 0̖͕͉̹̪̠1͍̜͢1͈0͏̺1͙̘͟ͅ0̶̠̟0͎̪͖͓̖1͚͈̟͝ ҉0̗̰̳̣̩̘0̜͈̱̕1҉̫0̣͇̱̥0̞͇͘ͅ1͈͢1͓̹1̡͚̳̦͙̰̰ ͇̲̝͓̝̻̙01̻̩͢1̴̙0͏1̺̹͉̗1͈̝̕0͘1 ̪̭̦0̱͙̩̞̩͡0̢̗̥1̺͡0͉͙̥͢0̯̤̟̦͇͚0͏̟͕͈̩0͚̻͔͈0̦̠͈̭̘͝ ̱̦͠ͅ0̠̱̭̠͚̻1̡͙̻1̣̗̝̜͕͚͓00̣͔̮̬1̭̤͡1͖̰͈̰̙̤ͅ1̯͉̻̳ͅ ̨͚0̲̗̠̖1͉͕͉̲͍͓̺1̲0͎͎̰̲̖1̭̪̼̮̝1̢1͘1͕̲̬͇̰͘ ̸͓0̛̤̼̺̪̤1̻̥1̙̳͞0̷̯̞͖̼1̗͍0̰̱͓̫͟0̛̖̣̯1̨̹̖͓̬̻̝ ̢͙̰0̡̘̤̜ͅ1̸̣͕1̭̖̪ͅ0̞̬̻͖1̭̥͖̪1̠̤̜̬̱̮ͅ1̛̻̥̙0̱̖͜ ̜̥̻̦̪0̴͉̮̣1̟͖̲1̲͈̫͈ͅ00̨̼͎͔͓͍1̭̬̹͇̘̪̺͞1̸̝̻̝̣ͅ1͏̠͇̘̗̹̫ ̥̝̱͔͕͔0̞̤̳͕͓0̴1̷̘̼̘̪̜0͎̯͕͔͎̤͓͡0̡̣̠̫͍̭00̪̳͚̻̞͙0͓̳̞̙ ̥̣͉̳ͅ0̲̫̤̭̠1͖͠1͉̞͚̻͚̱͜1͞01̮͕̻͍0҉̠̞̫̰͍̜̖0͕̜̦̘̰͔ ͖͞0͕1̧͔1҉̝͚͚̙̰̖0̢11̱̙̳͟1̟̹̠̲̹̗͝1̝͇̖ ̻00͖̪͎̗͠1̮͖̘͕͙͖ͅ0̨̬̻̰̘̦0̷͓00̮0͇̠̝̙ ̴̜0̤̹̱1̢̹̙̭̖͎10̭̥̖͖̤͔0ͅ1̦̺͖͈̠͇̤͞1͓̖̩̱0̡͇̰ ̙̲0̜̩͖̝̳ͅ1̧1͕̩̣͔̥0͓0͍̫͓͕0̣̹͍̰̺̮̩0̹͉̣̰̮̭1̨͉̠͙̣͙ ̳̹͈͖̯͔0̜͚̱̦1͏̯̫͍̼̮̩1̡͇͕̣0͎̤1̛͙̺0̣0҉1̲̜̝̦̰̠ ̯͍̟̕0̢̦̹̝̙1̦1̺͎̣͉͟0̗̙͕1̘̞̙͙̱̥1͏͉͕00͉̯you wake up in a bed that’s not yours. you wear clothes that aren’t yours. father expects you to be hyungwon. mother expects you to not fail.

you learn how much you cost every time hyungwon becomes a topic. mother cries and you don’t understand why. you don’t know who hyungwon is or what happened to him. you don’t understand why they call you hyungwon some times and _thirteen_  other times.

you learn more and more with every day. you aren’t allowed to leave your room, then you’re not allowed to leave the house. it’s big with endless rooms and staircases that you aren’t allowed to explore.

you smile when they tell you to but you can tell something is wrong. with each day that you try to be _hyungwon_  you become more _thirteen_.

you learn about the twelve that came before you but you don’t dare ask where they went.0̯͠1̛̥̫̙1̧10͉̳͇͚̙͙1͏0̪̗̥̳0̞ ͔̝͍̣̬̞0̵̲͚̤̟̖͔1̥̥̟͚͙͎͚͜1̦̥̳͓͖͘1͇͕̘0͉̼̲͚̘̤͖1̪̝̪1̩͕̹͙̻̣̩1̡̠͇ ̷̠̮ͅ0̪͉̺1͙͚͇̥10̴̲͍̪̱͉0̫̻̝ͅ1̯0̳͎̼̠̫ͅ1̲̝̹̬͈ͅ ̘̥0̠1̺͖̣͕1͙̯0͍̜ͅ1̞̥̖̮̳͝1͔͇̣0̶̳̟̼̹̙̤̩0̸̳̳͎͈̘͔̘ ̣̮͍͇̠̫0̵͇̖̻̬1̤͎͞1̢̫͖1̱̣͝0̥̝͎͇1̵͖̘͎̩̖̣ͅ1̨0̢̝ ̯͙̲̗̥̬͡0̡͇͇1̞̹̳͍͎1͍̤͞0̭͟0̡1̼͕̙̱̞0̯1̬̬ ̛̦͕͈0͙͖̜̦̺0̧̯͎̗̝̝͇1҉̩0̖̜̲̠̭͕0̣͚͈͚̮͚ͅ0̝͚̠͚0̝͙̰̗̣̱̩0̠̟̩̦̖͖͉ ̥̱̗̜̠̝0̧̪̙͙̲1̼1̷̖00͉̭̗̜̳0͈̖̝̤͞1̩̪͡1͎̞̼͟ͅ ̧̺01͏̜̣̝͕͉̣̟1̦̹͇̰̯̩͓̕0͞0̶̺0̝̗̻̯̗̙̗0̹1̩͔̥̫̘͇ͅ ̻͈̗0͈̫1̦̜͚̜̻1͇͓͕0̖͎̼1̹̦͔͠1̤̦͚0̨̪̥͓͍͉1̦̻̯̖̞͙ 01̲̳͞1̯̦͍͈̖̗0̮͡0̴1̨͇̳͍̲͍̖̬0͓̩̳ͅ1̪͙̘ ͙̪̝̠0̶̪̖̮̱0͉̤̗ͅ1̩̳͎̯͍0̱̟0̻0̻͇̤̤̬͇͉0̩̤̯͈̼͍̠0̵̼ ͇̜͈0̤͓̭̝͠1̡͎̻̙̜10̨͚͓̣ͅ0̗͟0̧̰1̥̞̤͙͎͓͓0͏̞̲ ̷͖ͅ0̜̘͕̗̞ͅ1͓̗̜ͅ1̳0͓̖̖̹̰̙͟0̦1͎0̥͇͎̻̼1̲͝ ̣̩̼͕̥̩̳͘0͔1̨1̙̙̘̻͉͕̤0̹0̯͈͍͙̣1͉̲̖̻̞1̛̬̭̦̗̭̞̙0̖͇̥̠͞ͅ ̰̗̻͔̖͜0̪͖̖̦͎͞1̧͉̙̲͖1̡̦̫0̗̗̭͉̯̫̯1̡̝̻̩̱͓1͖͉̳̮1̨̼̮1̬ ̠̘̻̬̤0͏1̡̘̺̦1̘͖͈̲͚̳̯͞1̫̙̪0͎͔̪̦͈̤̗0͈̜͝1͇̝̮͙͙͔͜ͅ0̼ ̻̟͘0̖̼ͅ1̝̳͙1̢͕̹͎̺̪00̴1̼̞̹͠0͕̩̱1͉̰̰͘ ̬̳̘00̢̟̥̻̯̪1̷̦̮̹0̺0̰̼̫0̨̬͔̖̩̤̼0͓̟͚0̷̪̻ ͘0̨1̭̻1͈̗̩̪͜0̰͠1̘1̶̘͕0̰1̰̺̹͚͠ ̨̯0̶̺11̡00͓̮̥̖1̸͇͍̩̰̝͔0̯͖̮̺͓̖1͍̲͙͡ ͏̦̭̙0̘͔̮͈͙̥0̰͚̫͍̙͓1̛̲0̼̤͓̻͖̻͕0̬̜͙̫̮̼̭00̪̼̞̫͢ͅ0̴͇̥ ̜̤̹̣0̳̜̥̱ͅ11̭̯̲̥ͅ1̙̖̬͔͉̭0̱͖̠͖̻̝̫1̦1͚̻͜1͕̻͝ ̺̗̠̝͈0͙̠1̗̪ͅ1̮̱͖̯̮̪̦0̖̫̫1̢̯0҉̪͙̤̗̱̻0҉̮͍̻̮ͅ0̷̮̼ 0̛̫͇̩̜̠̭11͔̭͙̺̩̰0̢͈0̜͎00̫̙̹͔̮̲͓1̧ ̡͚͚0͇̗̙̻͔͞11̧̫1̟͍̰̮̥̳͝0̛͔̯̜1̣͇̦͍̲ͅ0̳͚̝̝̳͓͎0͖ ͠0̡0̨͖1̺̠̯̞ͅ0͍͔͚̞͈͙͚͘0̧̦̤̲̘̪͕̣0͈0̦̲͢ͅ0̬̥̞̗ ̵ͅ0͙͓͇͈̥̟̤1͚͖̺̫͡1̛͓̳̦̻0͕͕̭̰ͅ1̮͢0̶̣͉0͕̩͓̪̝̬͘0͍͖̜̪̪̤ ̘̹̩̘͜0̹̥̟͈1̲̫1̡͚̮̹̻0̹̜̞̻̘̬0̻͍͙̗̘0̗͘0̠̘̲͍̪̪1͓͎̣ ͎̝̹0̫̘͉1͓̫͕̗͖̲̟͝1̸͔͔̰ͅ1̫̠̮̫̘̙̼0̕0̭͡0͙͈͓̞͖̘ͅ0͉͖͍̪̰͈ 0͚̠1̳̦̹͔̭͞1̵̹͔̗̗̥͚10̞̺̼0͏0̮̠͈0̟̱̲ ̴̻̟̻0̻̟͎̥͘1̭̲1̡̼̘̹̱͉͈0͏̖0̺̹͎̰͙͜1͈0̛̬1͍̟ ̞̠̭͉̮͕͍0͔̤̞͉1̵͈̠̼͓1̯̘͉̝͍ͅ0͔͚͍̯͉̮͕͟1͚̺̹͝1̢̲͓̖̯̼̪1̨0̵͓ ̟̥̩̜̱͉0̲1͖̫̹͍̭̣͇1͢0̛ͅ0̩͎͞1̙̬͈̜̙̕0̰̗̭̣͇1̷̼͎͔͉͙̰͔ ̜̭̳̞̠͔0͏̝͇̼̬̬̩1̫͈̺1҉00̯̘̣̯1̺͇͓̝̳̯̦0̠̺̟͜0͙̳͇̫͓ 0̼0̛͔̖͓̩̟1̭͜0̱̯0͇̥͙0̬̯̞̮̗̳0͚͈ͅ0̳̦͈ ̺̬͔̫0͔͕̖̫͇1͉̖͚̳̦11͉̰̱̣0̖̥̙̥̩1̰̟̱͉͕̟͓0͍̙̻̤ͅ0͖̦̘̣ ̜͎̯̼0̖̳̤̺1̧͎͎̺̺ͅ1͝0͔͈͙̯̘1͉̺̤1͍̮̞ͅ11̥̼̥̮͢ ̨̳͇͈̻̬̻̫0͚̦̮̮0̲͙̹̗̬1̯0̫̠͓̰̪̳͔0̻͔̦͙0҉̭̣̭̭̘0̺̘̮̜̲̺͍0̸͉̯͇̗̮ 0̝͈̫̙1̗͖̰̖̺̜͞1̸̙̠1͍̱̗͢0͏1͏̖̼0̢̤̥̠̥̰̥̘0 ̯̼̠0̵̠1͙̖̥͉̠̦1̺̟̩̺̼0͓͚͟1̴̼̤̜͍̩̱0̡̣̙̩̩0̴̺0͖̙̝͈ ̛̦̺̤0͍̻͖̜͈1̨̤̫̩ͅ1̫̝0̰̻͔̺̞̟͓͢0̺͓͎͞1̦̜̳͚͕0̖͈1̵̰̰̮͇̬ ҉͙̳̟ͅ0͉̯̝1̫̹͠1̩̙͕0̜1̬̹̰͙͔̜ͅ1̴̗̭̰0̧̼̰̦̱1͉̝ ͓̺0͈010̠̠͡0̲̗̮̰̟͍0̛̟̹̦̖̭̬̳0͔0̼̗̤͝ ̺͍̹͓͢0̜̫̬̝̜̲̕1̠̠̞̤1͙̤̩1̱̱͕̞͙̤̟͡0̵̬͍̟͉͔̙͖1̢͖1̲̣̫̠ͅ1̛͇̬ ͇̺̠0̷̙̻͕̝͎̝1̵͇̞̘̭̥̺̬1͖̺̠̹̬0̴̬͍̩̝̻̺̬1̥̟͇0͔̗͕͙̣̳͍0̬͔̩0̻͙̱̲̝͚͜ͅ ̼̤̠̼̣͡0̲͎̣͇11̵͇̫̪̞̼̰00̰̖̰̖̬0̻̹̺̼̼͔͙0̻̜͇̤1̝̯̺̫̹͉ ̷̯͇͕̖0͕1̶1͚͇̰̕ͅ1̨̺01͏̘̹͖̦ͅ0̲̣̹0͙̮̲͚ ̝̱͎͘0̻̫̣̤̘̼̞͢0̯1̼̹͔̬̣̝0͝0͏͖̬͎͇̟ͅ0̨̥͕̱͎̗͙͔0̳̘͓͎̳͟0͓ ͕͍̜͓̻01̤̳̩̬1̧̪̺ͅ0҉̮̞1҉͓̼̰0͈̰͍00̳̬̘̜͕̥̜ ͚͓̘͎0҉̱̯̝̫̮̤1̷̙̪̥1̰̗̬͈̗͎ͅ0̡̣̱0̮̱̪̣͎̺̞0̥0̬̰̥̦̘̪1̘̖̟ ̙̲͙̟͙͉̕0̧̼̝͈1̗̲͓̜̫̠͢ͅ1̬͉̘̫̜1̟͕͍̟͖0̹̳͎̜̞̤0̝̫̼0̕0̸̰̜͙̯ ̦̲͕̹0̟̲͎͚̞͡1̲̻̣1҉͉1̜̪0̹͎̻͓̤͈͢0͏̗̻̘͓ͅͅ0̠͚̩̥̰̟0̜͕͍ 0̺̯̬̥̺̞̥1̴͈̪̻͕̻1͕̬0̵̲̼0̳̟͎̭̳͓1̠̠̯0҉͈̜̼̟̤1̙̥͓ ̳̰̖̤̟01͙̱͝10̗͎͍̞̺1͖̞̩̟1̨̼1̭̱͇͔̜0̷̙̘̟̥͕ͅ ̺̼̕0̕1̥̜͚1͠0̥0͎͉͎͚1҉̰0̢1͏̮͎̥̼̺̠͚ ̰͕͢0̨̠̗̖̘̭1͓͎̕1̗͘ͅ0̺̘̹̮0̢1͍̜̺̘̦0̝0̪͇̼͇̫̯̠ ̗̪̦0͉͟ͅ0̰̣1̛̻̟̩0̦̼̻̪͝0̩̳͓͙̬̱0͇͈͜0̞̯̻͇̹̬0̛̘̤̜͙̻̱ ̬͈͖̤̥̖͘ͅ0̧̯͖͖͚̼̭̤1̫̘͍1̸͍͇͖͓ͅ1̨͕0̣̲̪̝̼1̢͙̬͖0̤̞̦̜̞̩͢0̕ ̯̝̭͡0͜1͍͉̟1̝̼̘̞̦̲0͕̭̝̹11̵̬̭̬̣̖1̨͉͖̤1 ̫͍̝̠̠͜ͅ0̫͈0̸̰̰̩͇ͅ1̪0̢0̱͓͚̞̹͜0̤̗0̛̬̟ͅ0̫͔̻͎ ̞̥̘̯͉̭͚0̤͡1̞̳̹̯̤̝͟ͅ1̡͔̜͇̜̯0͚̜̩̪̺1̱̩̼͔̠͘0͎̝̺0̧͚̗͙0͏̪̱͖̘͖ ͇̻͟ͅ0̵1̮̝̫̮̩̻̥1̯̝̱1̫̤̖̼̮10҉̖̘̩0̠̲̙̜̭̞1̤̯͝ ̠̤̦̳̫ͅ0̖͙̞͎̭̻̱1͡1̯͔1̥͎̠̯̫0̪̺̦̺̻͘1̡̪0̰͉͇̩̙̯͈1͏͖͉̫̣ ̪͈̟0̘̩͕̘̘̱1̴̤̩͕͖̭̫ͅ1̷̳̜͕͎̰0̞̟̪͙̼̞͟1͖̼̩1̧̖̟͔̤̘1͖͠0̼̰̠̱ ͈̟̣̻͍0̴͕͓̻1̧̙͉̱͔1҉̙̖̗͔̟0͓͔̰̫͟0͞1̦̯̘̣͚͚1̳̻̱1̩̙̕ ̡0̦̺̦̫͙̙ͅ1̥ͅ1̭͚͇̤̘͡1̛͎͉0̵1̞͔̘̟̥̪̳1̶͍1̢̩̦̫͕̬͇ ̻̫͓̜̤̟͞0̤͟1͈͓̣̲͝ͅ1̬͈̗̥0͍̬̠̙11̥̩͞1͢1̨̖͉̪ ̶̯͈̱̖̱0͚̹̭̦̣ͅ1͉̪ͅ1̙̠̣̟̤̯0̻ͅ1͉͓͔1̬͕̘͖͈̠̺1̫̜̼̼̦͞ͅ0͏̺̝̝ͅͅ ̩͈̝̱0͍͇͍͖͚̝̭0̞̼̤͕͠1̨̩͕̬͈͙̣̘0̢̺0͏͕̻̞̖̗̖0̪͓̜͕̰͝0̞̝̤̥̟̟̖0̖̯͍̭̲̭͝ ̞̝̞͞0̞̺͇͘ͅ1͔1̣̰͔̺̖̞1̳̻̗͜0̦͕̱1̴̩̟1͏1̴̜͈̱ 0̮̰̞̻͍̟͚1̗͖̱͎͈̻͕1̥̮͓̫0̖̯̮͘1̲̺͇͈͙̟͠0̘0͖͜0̴̪̺͇̹͇ ̤̗̥̮͙͍̕ͅ0̻͉̟̥1̢͚̟ͅ1͍̤̥̭͉̙̰͝0̗͖0͍̮00̯̟̤̠͖̫͠1̫̬͇̼ ̡̥̹̟̰̭0͍̣̪͈̳1̭1̢̱͕̭̺͔̹1͔̗̮0͘1҉̰0̤͖̖̪̪͇̜0̡͙͔͉̯̠ ̳̪͖̙̻͍0͖̩̰̲̝0͎̟̻100͖͚̺͓͉͔ͅ00̶͎͚0̝͇̻͚ ͕̝͓͞01̱̮̘͎̯͈1̴͖1̺̰͈0̘͉̞̩1̸̦̦̝ͅ1͟1̗̗ ̱̭̩ͅ0̦͎̳͎̘1̭̰̘͞1͚̳̲̠0̰̕1͈0͓̻̰͓0̵͖͍̯͉1̯ ͜0̢̬̙̟͖̗1̧͇̺̘̤̞̟1̹̺̩̜͙0̩͕̫͓͟1̤̙̻͔̩͜1̳̯͓0̳̙̙͙̩͝0̢̪͕ ̻̻0͍̭̖͇͈1̹̘͔͢1̴̤̰̻0̙̦͍̙̜̬͎1̺̺̪͍̠̥̗1͏͚̖̹̟0͈͚͞0̪͇͕̫̞̹ ̴̰̥̥͇͕ͅͅ0͕̘̗̖̕0̞̖̟1̣̦̥̱͉̘ͅ0̢̳͉̞͚̙͓̙0̣̦̮̫͓͎0͈͞0̬̘̫͉͕̩̕0̠͉͠ ͇̩̞ͅ0̷1͎̜̫̟̬͍10̤̱͉̖̱1̡̝͖̲̗0̣0͝0̵̻̪̟ ҉̥̠̮0̢͉͓̳1͎̣͓̬1͡0̴̙̜0̸̘̭̞̬̝0̣̬̦̝̞̪͡0̸̰̥͉̞1̹ ͏̙0͈̼̩̮̗̯1̻̖̫͉1̠͉̯͖1̻͇͚̠̭͍̙͞00͇̘̹00̧̯̺ ̥0̴̜̼̼͚1̺͈̼̭̘͚̻͞1̸̪͓̩̦̼̻̜1̻̼̼̭͞0̛̗̮̫̪ͅ00̴̫̝̲0̹̮̰̝̬̫ ̻̹0̥̘͍͎̕1͖ͅ1͇͟0̫͍̣̙̮͇̗0̬͓̻͉̩̪1͇̻̦̯͕0̢̬̼̯̳͇ͅ1̨͕͇̮ ̩͚͔̣̫0̴̬͖͍̪̱̥1̯̠̯̪̩1̲̗͈͘0̫͓̯̖1̱̗͚̝̣̟1͕̳͍̺͚̹̘͝10͠ ͎͎̣̣0͓͍̞̳̭̼̯0͉̦͉͇̘1͔̮͈̤00̦͉0̻̝͜0̻̥͇͠0̖̦̼̫̜ ̬0͙̤̦̖̖̳̦1̬̞̺11͔̜̩͇̼̗̮0̻̞̺̲̪̙1̯͝0̴0͉̩ ̼̲͕̘̲̜͚0̛̙̲1͞1͉̱0̡͓̙1̶̩͙͔̦1͕̫̬1͏͚̯͔͎͙̰1̩̬̜̗͈̕ 0̧0̡̬͖̬͕1̡̱̦̲̼͈0͙̰͍00̛͚̞̬̞͖0͍̥0̡̮̻̲̖͔ ̨̻͓̼̥011̷̜̠̟̰0̦̘̤̤͈͙͝1͔̫̟͓̳͠1̧̰0̗̯̹̳͟1̷̘̙̫̯̙̖ ̛͖͍͈01̲̤̘̦̮̣̙1̵͔̪̦̥͕̰ͅ0̤̯ͅ0͙̣͎̳1̨0̰͕͖̫̘ͅ1̦͓̮͖̤͔“—but i don’t think it’s a good idea to get further involved with them.” jooheon doesn’t seem to be listening. he crosses his arms and his lips press into a tight and stubborn line.

“but if we don’t go out there, we won’t ever find out what happened. _thirteen_  isn’t saying anything and who knows what secrets he could know. what if it’s something that could help us chase those bastards away?” jooheon sounds resolute and kihyun is reminded of a kid that still likes to wrap a blanket around his neck and pretend he’s a hero.

“jooheon, be realistic. they’re the biggest mob in neo seoul do you honestly believe that we would have a chance if we get some dirt on them? what do you expect us to do with that info?” the door to the living room opens and from the corner of his eye kihyun can see _thirteen_  walk up to the couch. “they have people in politics, in the task force. whatever dirt we can find, we can’t do anything with it.” kihyun tries to stay reasonable when jooheon, high on some unrealistic dreams and hopes, seems to have drifted off into another world already. he understands what drives him — the thought that maybe justice could be served in the end. if kihyun had still been younger, he might have been up to it, but years passed and kihyun learned how little resolution meant when someone was holding a gun to your head and your brain matter is sticking to walls the next second.0͇̹̦1̥̠̺̤͕̩1̫̱ͅ0̛̯̖̺̖̰̗1̳0̹̹̦0̼1̳̖͙̮̱͎͍ ̳͘0̱̬̥͚͍̻͢0̭͚̥1̫̪̤0̲̗̖͙͉0̜1̼̳̩͠1͚̳̻1͎̖̕ ̵͓͚͓̩̲̺0̨̫̬̗̜͓͚̦1̭̖̯̦̟͎͓1̨ͅ1̷0̧͕1̺̥̖̩̗1̨̠͕0̬̝͕̰̪̯̘ ̥͔̟͉͔̤0̶̺͓1̺̙ͅ10̴̱̩̻͎0̱̰̯̹1̙͚̜̘̼̹̟͠0͕̹1̭̥͉̯͚͡ ̬̩̠̼̝͖͞0҉̰̼0̯̟̼1̘̞͝0͓0̶̪̱̠0͡0̻̭̝͖̘0̸͙͈̟̮̺ 0͔͍͕̭̜1̠͜1̟͉̲̘̰̪1͔̟0̺̝͇0͏̥͕͇̞1̤̫̟͓̯͡1͝ ̴̖̙̠̻̟̹̺0̡͕̦͙̣͖1̮͖̳̗̩̕1̗͢0̛̤̭ͅ0҉̣1̷̗̼̘0͕͚̳̭͢1̢̤͎͕ ̱͙̫̤͟0͉̹̖̪̘͝1̨̮͇1͢0̡0͝1̮̻0̢̹1̡͎̤͈ 0̱̬1̭̘1͏̲̣̺ͅ0҉̣͍1̡1̴1̞̰0͏̥̲̤̝̩ ̢͉̜͉͚͇̖̼0̗͟0̻̥̼̝̳͠1̡̦̥0̷̦̜0̜̦̱̼̭̕000̙̱̗͢ ̡͕̥̜̭0͔̪̜͉̺̞1̗͕̬̻̠̹̹1̫̰̤̻̺̹0̟̼̳̰0͈̱͚̗̫̬ͅ10͏̟̠̪̺̣0̹̗̮̞͍͕͢ ̬͓͕̜0͓1̯1̴̜͙̯̖̗0̵̝̤̖̺̟͔0̱̠͎̠1̘͠0̭1̴̭̗̪̮̯̫̙ ҉̺͓̗0̭̰̻̝̩̩͎͜1͍̜͔̹͓̱ͅ1̫̭̯͉̜ͅ0̸̜̥̱0͉̮̩͟0̖̩͕̘͎͇0̞̬̻̱͎͉̠1̸͉͕̘͓̳͎ 0̴͇̰1̶̻̯̹1̶̼͔̬̪1͞0̴1̴̣0̨͈̮0̖̖ ̻̩͉̼̞̯̝0̡̤͓1̦̞͚̬̮͔͙1͇͖͕̤̻͞0̰̫1̫̰̭͠0͚0̻̯0̻ ̟͔̱̘̠̱0̩̥͉̗͠0̴̼̠1̰̰͚̻̗̳0̬͔̰̝͞11̕ͅ0̳̦̞̥̜͓̞͘0 ͈͎̩0̱͉0̩1͈͖̝̥͈̳0̹̺ͅͅ0͉̞̞̠̺͠0̘̝̮͍͟ͅ0̼̳̰̕0̘̫̗ ̪̪̤0̶̰̬̯̹̙̤1͔̯1̡̦̱̩̞̣010̲0̨̲̣͍̗̱̳1̵͖̣̲̹̜̠̘ ̱͈͔̙͓͎̼0̵̭͎͉̻1̢̯̫͈̯̱͇1͈͈̳̻͖̖͙1̡̲̟͔̹̮̖ͅ0͓̻1͏̲͕0̖̩͈0̰͈̱͎͇̘̞ ͇͙̟̬͎̯0̱͎̰͇̫0͖1̖̰̻̱̪͞0̨̙̦̥̞0̢̫̗0̻͚̰̝0͏͔0̠͔̭̘̤̮͝ ͔̠̦0̼̤̖͟11͓̖͖̟̲͕0̧̠͓̼͈̗̰̮0̳̟̰̺̜1̸̪̭͎͖̳͓0̫͇̱͙̜0̦̟͈̫ ͕̤̞̦̹0̴̠̘1̺͡1̲̝̹̠͕̱ͅ0̫͡1͎ͅ1̖1͈͉͟1͉̠̼͎̰̜ ̸͖̟͔͔0̪͓̱1̡̥̞̭̤̤1̺̠̠̟͈̮00̢͉̙̻̞͍͚̭1̫͔̳̻0̹͓̯͇̻̤1̷̹ 0̝͖̱͉ͅ1̫̙͞1͕̠̩̼̦̯ͅ1͎͍̪0̝̦̲̲͉ͅ0̧͖11̭̦̩͍ ͔̬̦͚͚͍̦0̬̺͡1̛̘̤1̱̦͙̝̹̩̗͢0҉̩̻̳̮̜͚1̱̟̥̰ͅ1͝10̜̖ ̲̮̱0̖̣͜0̥̪1҉̫̺͚̖0͉̳̭͍̗̰̱0͉̥̦̳͙1̖̦̝̩͉̝1҉̫̜̩̻̞1̲͖͇͎̯̕ 01͚͙͜1̢̗̤͉1̣͔͍̞̕0͙̳̩̲1͏͍͕͍͈̞̼0̵̺̳͙0̣͚̤̻̬͈ ̖͉̠͕͠0̭̗̠̩̮̞0̬̖͎̠̗̭͚1̺̼͕̙͓̞0̴̠̝̰0̠̬̖̻̞̩̮00͖͉0̧̦̱ ̱̤̘̼͝0̠͇̠͡11̡̥͉̠͕̗ͅ0̼̱͔00͙̩̤̬1͡0̨̯͔͎̦͖͚ ͇͖͕0͙̘̞̗̭̼ͅ1̶͔̼̮̩̞̦1̯̭͎͞0̕0̗̮͈͢1̖̤̟̳0̙̥̜̝̠͖1͓̠ ̥0͍̦̞1̡͚͕10͓̭̱̪͍͇̘0̭̺̘̩͚0̨̼1̢̜1̥͇͉̼ ̩̜̤̳͖͙̥͟01͉͎̫1̻̮0̴̱̦̟1̕1͉͖̲̥̳̖1͕͍͚̫͟1͔͈ ̨̩̯̦̱ͅ0̴̻͖̦̗̣̺1̫͔͈͔̝͚͟10̟̥̯͈͕̤͠1̴̟̹͙̗1̖̟̜̻̺̖͉0͎͚̰1̝̠͈̮ ͔̗͓̠̗0̻͘1̮̼̭͖̤͔̲͘1͕̺̤͟0̬͕̙̰0͏̟1̻͇̤̣͎̖0̮̜͍̱͉̕1̮̝̱̥̻ ̹͖̭̩̤0̻̤̦̝̪̼̼0҉̮̥1͉̦͔̜͉̹ͅ0̝̞͚̠̝̳0̟0̢̯͙̞0̳̙̱̹̺̞ͅ0͖̞̤̳͘ ̠̲̼̝͉ͅ0͚̳̭1͏̱̥͕1̣͡0̰͕̺̰̼̬̟͘1̰͈̗̞̣̣0͓̳̰ͅ0̱̯0͖̹ ̞0͓1̙͙̭̳̦̪1̫͎̭̼̯͔̩1̙0̪̗̫̱͉̮1͓̲̘̱̣͙0̘̫̹͇̹̻̗1̮̦͇͓ ͖̩̬̙͎͉ͅ0̥̖̖͓͍̝̹1̣͙̠̫̪ͅͅ1̝̲͓̭̤0̗̞̣͞1̜̗̱̜͓̪1̭̺̤̹̮͠0̧͔̤1̯͉̦͜ ͇͈0̴1̝͉1̤̱̙͇0̴̥̰͇̼̪̞͕0͘0ͅ0̛1̖̝͈ ̡͇̖̟̠̘͍0͔̥̹̼1̗̱̙10͚̤1̡̬̠͖̦͕͓1̧̥̰̰1̧̰̹̥͚0̷̲̘̩ ̯͙͡01̸̟̖̫̪1̻̳̜̗̘̘͖1͙̗̼0͖̗̲̝͍͎̲0͚͎̺̯͇̼1̛̪̦1̬̱̼̘̞̘̭you see dark things happen in that house. you hear screams and gunshots. you see blood on the floor, a head rolling. it’s not a pretty sight but you don’t feel anything, staring at the gruesome scene. you lack the capacity to feel disgusted. distraught. shocked. it’s one of your flaws. it’s the reason mother and father aren’t happy with you.0͔̱1͏̜̬̼1̧̩0͞ͅ1͕̼1͈̻̪͕̻̖̪00̴̹͕̖͈̼̙̜ ̞0̙͇̳̩1͓͖̤1̞͎0͢1͖1̴͍̲͈̲̬̹̜1̪1̸̪̺̟̬͇̮ ̛̪͓͔͈͙01̭1̟̥̟̱1̧̯͓̣̱͚͙0̷̯0̦̟͍͎̮1͖̳͠1͡ ̯͍͈0̢̥̙̮̭1̦͕͙1̺1͓̮͎̞0̧̱̰͇0͏̣͚̜ͅ1̢̩̰̤̮̩̬̩1 ͍̠̬͔͝00̛͔̲̹̮̱̙1̪̲̳̠̰̣0̝̬0̢̩͇͚͕̺0͚̪0̺̥͙̥0̴̬̬͇͎͓̬͚ ҉̯̯̜̣̼͕0̪1͕̳1̞͈0̧1͕̥1͖͍̘̠0̱͍1͚͉̤ ͈̗͓̤0̺͇̗̲̝1͖̣̝͞1̧̗̼͇0̗̠̫͜0͙̙͜0̤̳̼͓̜͔ͅ0̙̬͈̰̭̠̱͠1͎̗͔̩̥̤̠ ͇0͟1̷̭̥͇1̪̹̫̼͔͡ͅ0̳̩ͅ1͈̩̬͟0̣̻1͕͈̻1̺͖͖̻̘ 0̥͞1̖͇̝ͅͅ1̧̟0͏̖̼0̫̤̠͇̩̹͔͘1̼͍̰̹̯0̙̙1̞̹̲̭̥͕ ̧̪011̸͇̮̫̬͖̱1̧̲͕0̣͠0̷̠̬̙̞ͅ1̸̹̭͔̼̙1͚̟̤̜͙̪͇ ̺̫͎̲͉͍̜͞0̙̞͖̙̺̫̝0͝1̶̥̝͍̫̮0̧͇̩̻̤̯0͕0̧͎͓̺0̨0͏̳̩̳ͅ ͈̤̪̠̼0̦͈͍̻͔͇͝1̰͇̦̣̭̤̦1̘̜1̗͍̤̝̤͇͘0͔͔͓1̺̪̮͎͢0͚̯̭̻͡0̷̱͇̞͕ ̙0̷̫̣̫̟1̴̦͖1̭̜̭̪͉̠͙01̹͚͈͍00҉͓͇̻̳0̙̗̦͢ ̪̩͚̪̝̫0̠̬̖̩̞̻1̡̜͚̼̤1̡̘̺̟͔͙͖̺0̠0͎̤͎̼̮͜10̶̤͖̪̦̞͇1̙̥̹͎͈͝ ̹̝̹̬̣͘0͚̘̻1̞̜̻̭̲̗̭1͓̰̥͇̟͞0̹̩̖1͞1̸̙̜̦͈͍͔0͕̬͓͠ͅ1̻͇͖̦̣͙͠ ͎̞̰͕͓̞͟0͜0̝̟̟1̨͚̫̬0̱̝̲̥̙̹͢ͅ0̺̞̳̠̣͜0̤̭0̝̖̜̘͇̠͡ͅ0͍̤̳̥ ̗͕̠̦̲͞ͅͅ0̪͍̬̩1͕̯1͇̥͕͈̬̗͎̕1̧̯̬0̞̯͖̦̞0̖̠̫̰̻̫͘1̧͉͚͍̲1̸ ͚̣̠01̷̣1̺̰̲͚͙̩͜0̪̗̰̞0͎̣͔̲̮͇0̸̞͓̯̹͓͇͈0̨̻̩̼̳͔ͅ1͘ ͎͉͓͜01̡͖̭1͏00̯͜ͅ1҉̬̠̰0͎̟0̦͡ ̻̩̠̹̻00͡1̴͓̬̻͎̙͙0͓̠̥̙͚͔̜0̺̜̪0͕̫̬̥̳̩͝0͎̮0͉̗͉̖̩̳ ͚͎0̯͚͍̮͎͙̹1̣1̱͔̹͔͉͈0͏̗̬̮̹0̩͔̻0̭̭̺͍0̖̤͍̞͎1͖͍̖̬ ̲̝̝̟̭0͔̻͚͓̝̥̞1̴1̮̫̫01̨͎ͅ1͚̱̬̝͉ͅ1͎͎͖̟0̨̮̟͕̜̟ ̡̱̻̙0̖̼̞̖̮͝1̞͚̘̩1̵̱̠̪0͚͖0̞1̴̯͎̼̹̖̦͎0͉̞̹͔̣͈0̡̞̤̻ ̬̞͝0̖̭01͇͙͈̖͈͟0̩̪0̞̠̤͚̰0̴̰̠͚̬ͅͅ0̧̼͓͈0 ̛̳͔͖̬͍̠̖0̤1̝1̻̻̻͍͘0̣̻0̨̬̤͍͚͕̬ͅ1҉̫ͅ1̺̰̙1̶ ̟̗̰̗͖̳0҉1̵̗̦͎͚̹̜1̪͍̯̪̟͉1̝̤̫̲͙͈0̬̭0͏10҉̱̟͇͇̦͖ͅ ̨̫͍0̩͇11̯͙0̪̲1̙͟0̙̠̞͔̘0̰1͎̣ ͓͔̫͔͕0̦̪̹̲1̴̘̣̯̠1̮͙͔͉0҉̹̻̘͈̭ͅ0͕1̞͡0͈̲̞̝͙1̤̪̺ ̙̩̗͍͙0̰̲͢11̫̩̮̤ͅ0͖͟0̵̫͚̯̜̝͈̗1̱̘͚̮̜̤ͅ1͍̰ͅ0̥̞̖̥̰͡ ̦͎̹̥̥͞0̰̩̳0͓͚͔̙̪ͅ1̭̹̜̲0̬̰̻͔͢0͏̞̖̼̺͎̯͕0͖̼̳̗̱͎0͙̰̱̪̲̱̳0̯̮̥̠̝͍ ̠̰0̨͕1̝̦͕̹̫̪͖1̭̳̖̭̜͔̹͠0͙̞͕ͅ1̫͚̥̣̱̬͚͝1̛̠͙̱0͓̝̲͕͇1̭̥̞̦͙ͅ ̻̻̰̻͙0̣̱̩͚͈͙1̡̘̞̝̞1̶0͖͍̰͡0̧͔͍̖͓͖̟0̞0̙̞̲1҉ ̶0̡̗̞͎̪̞͎1͚͕̫̦͎̼1̸͎̩̠̤̝0̣̰̙͉͇̰ͅ1̙̫̬͉̞̩͢0̼͈̱͔͟1͈̫̩̰1̛͔̥͍͔̙͕͖ ͎̘̠̘̦0̱̥̹͓͚̥͕1̲1̻̪̝0̞͉̦̲̻̤0̨̝̠1̭̟͉̙̘̥0̻͇̬̜͙͚1̮͍̦̻̱͉̮͡ ̜͇͎̗̞̭0̝̩̖1̺̭͍̙͕͘1̠͖̱͜1̮̜̭͟ͅ0̘̮͢ͅ0͚̜̱͝1̱͚̭1͔͖ ̤̲͕̯͙00̱̯̯̞̺͢1͈͕̥0̛0̢̥͖0̻̲͔̻̰͡0͚̝̬̳̥̩̺0̙̠͙̪̗͍̻ ̻̖̟͔͇͉0҉͎̳̼͚ͅ1̨̫ͅ1̛̳̯̦̙͖̪͔1̧̩̭͉̳01̝͔͔͈͖0̱0̗̳̗̮͈ ͇̹̪̰̝̹0̶̼̰̘͖̩̯͎11̸0̸̪̯̫1̮͙̦̭̩͔͔͡0̷̘̰̣͈0̳̦̱̜̦̰0̣̻̹͓̬ ҉0̡̙͉̹̟1͕1̢͎͕̲̲̟0̸̗0̦̠̬̥̭̩͔͟1̡̫̲͉0̱̯̞̱͈1͇̗̹̜͈̬̘͠ ̵͓͇̪̙͓͕0̱̞̱1̳͚̱̥̬̝1̼̫̲͜0̡1̪̯̥͡1̵̣͈͔0̮̬̩̲̼͖̮͟1̲̥̟̩̣̦ ͎̠͍͙͎̤0̠͉̱̯̺͔̕0̼̖1̥͎̬̳̥0̼̲͎̦̭̟̙͘0̱̟0͍͔0͙̰̬0̸͇ ̱̞̤͓͚̞0̨̼̯1̶̖̭͚̳̲̝1̡͇̖0̛͕̩̥̼1̱̟̙̹̜͈̦͞0̷̱͙̲̥͚0̜̺̳̗͠1̲̳̤̫̟̲͇ ̛͚̣̯͖̠̺̯0̝͚̘̰̞̭1͇̞͉̬͉͓1̹̙̫͔͜1̠̳͖̻̼͓͙0̡͍̮̗͖͇̰ͅ0͏̩͉1̢͔0̰̩͇̹̖̜͈ ͍͎0͕̫̺͞1͡1̷̣͎͉1̶̼̫̻͓0̙̪͙̠̟0̴̦̟̠̤̯1̮0̜̫̠̝̳̲̞͜ ̲̝̱̘̙̻̬͜0̙̩̬̗̰͞1̨̫̪̙͔͕̠̠1̱̫̫̘0̢̩̻0̪̞̝̩̙͚ͅ0͎̳̪0̸̰̮̥̪͎1͈̬̙̰̫̱̠ ̰̪̞̯͉ͅ0̭̻1͘1̼͇͞10̘̭͔̰̬͢1̭̭̠͝0̭̞͇͞0̼̦̜̜̯̬ ̦̪͇͉͚̞͙0͉1̠̯̣̠̜̞1̳̫͚͕̯̮0̰̫1̨̤̙̱̙͇0̺͙͉͔͔͡ͅ0̸̪͉͓̪̘1͠ ̫0͔͚̭̫͎̯̬1̵̱͉̝̙̰͚1̟͜ͅ0͏͖1̗͇̦̥̩̖1̡͔1̤̖1͈̰̤͙͢ ̟͜0̢͓͚͚1͙͘ͅ1̶̫̠͖͉0̦̲͎̜̗̱̮1̟̳̳̲̲1̯͉͓1̻̦̫͚͈͖̩0͍ ̘̣̮̰̣̪0͕̜̙̗̞1͉͡1̣̰̟̕0̰̰̘̕0̡̣̫̯͎͕0̧̯͎͎̗͙0̡̳̳̞̯1̞ ̜͔̗ͅ0҉̤͖̱11̳͢0̦̖̟͢1̡͕̩͍1͈̭̖0͓̦̖0͖͖̹ ͎͇ͅ0̺0̸͍1̬̲̦̝̲͙0̹̪͉̪̩̹͚͞0̭̪̗̥̮̯͚0̭͇̝̥̠͢0̸0̨̗ ̣̝͈0̝̺̲̻̪͕̺1̴̼̦̲1̺̘̫̺̫͖1̬̯0̮̟͇0̲1͚1 ͓̭͇͇͔͕͚0̞͖1̙̦̩̠̰1͎͓͓̮͘0̭̹̘1̸̼̫͖1̻̻̼̹̻1̗̘͎̬͖̭1͉͟ ͍̥͜0͓̤͎̗͝0҉1̙̫̼ͅ0̜͓͍̙̦̤0̧̥͇͙0͕̘̹͚̤̪͜ͅ0̟͕͔̭̠̙̫0͞ 0͕͈̫1̩̠1̺̭̥0̯͚̲̩̹̱̙0̛̩͕̘͕̪̦̤0͍̞0̖͎͢1̹̮͖̘͚͉̙͝ 0҉͍͎̙̫̪̮ͅ1̛͈1̤̬̤͝0̝̠̖̜̰̤̭11̤͇0̗̟̳̝̟1͚̩̹̠̫̫ ̪͙0̙̣̩̹͙̗0͔͈͍̞͈͎10̞̘̬͈̮̬̳0̝͓0̜̩͓̮̯̖ͅ0҉̪0͉̤͇͉͖͢ ̼̦͕̱01͏1̟0̥̹1̻̰̞̫̞̤̮0̮̬͖͕̠̖0̧1҉͉̰͓ͅ ̠̳̼0̻̣0̦1̢̲̦00̙̜̺̫̞͜0҉̯͎̜̞00̭̙̰͕͎̹̹ ̘͍͖̼̠0̴͖̺̙1̰͇͍̳1̧͓1̮̟̳̙0̥͈̦̞̥͡0̥̦̘̹̤̫͞1̳̤̮͙̗̖͟0̦͉̺̹̝ ͓̹͚̼01̪͎̝1̜0͔̺̰ͅ01҉0̹̝̥͜1̣̫̦ ̮͉̠̕0͙̜͟1͎̯̫͕͖͢1̡͍̱͙̩̦̤͍0̵͙0̫͎͔0͙̤̤̟̹̕0̗̺̭̮͓̖̞1̷̙̺ ̵̬0҉̺̗͚1̲͉̭͈͍̣̝1̣̞͈0̳̯̜1̱͙͙͉̫͙̤͠1̸̱̘̝̩̻0̜̩͉̻̦̮0҉̤̜͙̱ ͇͎͔̩̣̰̗01͔̺̦͔̤̠̳1̖͇̻0̘1̴̦̖̫1͝0̻̖̦͚0͙͈̳͈̼͕̱ ̨̪̝͍͇0̩11̟͇̬͟1҉̬̳̩̲1̨̖̼̮͔̺͎̲00̪͎͇1̧̦̬̙͉̖ 0̞͓͙͍̼̗̞0̢̖͕1̝͖̗̹̘͖00̘̭̞̤ͅ0̴̱̞̠̝̖̜0̛̟0̣̯̲͍͘ ̞̺̩̥̲͔͘0̢̞̗͍͔͙̝1̷̻̘͕͖1̖1̧0̞̞̺̱͢1̞0̷̫̲̙̭0̻̩̺̱͍ͅ ̴̗̮͓̲̹0҉̗͎͎̥1̨̜̝͎̠͓̰͕1̯͉̙̝̲͙̹0͏̪͔͖1̭̦̟͕͍̕0͏̞̭̗͇0̧̘̪̹0̭̖̪̲͎͖̕ ̡̤̠͈̦̺̻0̳͎͕̮̳1̢̜1̝̰̮̺̗̜ͅ0͇̘̘͘0̢1̮͡ͅ0̩̖̻̜̰̳1͇͈̥̭̥̕ ̗̼̘̺͍̳̼͝0͠0̷̠̭1̪͙͟0̼0̷̘̦̭0̰̯̼͉0̸̺̭̠̗0̙̱̣͉ ̶̣̬̼̫̲͚0̝̜̪̝͙͡1̳̥̱̞̮̯̳1̰̻͔͓̬̮̙0̙͇͡0̢1̲̞̙̯̝͡10̫͍̠͉̣͚ ̴̰͖̣̘0̯̤̤͈̲1̗̺̘1̹̩̟̬̖̺0̺͍̲͚͡1̡̰1͏͚̙͔̥̩0͙0̰̦̞̹̳̰̳ ͕̟̖0̙̱̮͓͙̲ͅ1̧10̨̪̟̳̺̦̘̹0͔0̻͞0͈̘͍͚̱1̢͉̩ 0̰̯̮͙̜͎̪1̭͉1̨1͎̞̮̝̕ͅ01̝͍̮͈̱1͍̼̝͎̮̬1̸̤͈ ̴̫̳̩0̥̙̫̙͕̖̤1̶̺̠̥̦̯ͅ1̢̖͎̹̞0̘͇͙̪̖͜ͅ0̫̠̲͉1̲̲͝0̱̬̦̱̱͇͢1̝̰ 0̨1͔͝1̛̝̻̠̗00͙̼͕͍̙̤̠1̯0̮̼͇̰̲0͇̰̘̟̟̙ ̪̪͓0͉̮0̻̫̫̙̠͟ͅ1͚̞0͔͔͢0̯̝0̼̪̩͔0͡0̛͈͓̩̯̪̺̹ ̥0̧1̤̭̖̬̞̟̼͢10̺1͇̺̣͉͡1͙̭̪͝1̷̮̬̖ͅ1̗͙̱͚͔͝ͅ ̘̘̜0̴͖1̴̬̦1̛̮͈0͡1͉̲̞1̤̦10̺͕̪̘̤͇ ̖0͙1͉̟̟̖̬̲1̢0̻0̬̼̥͈̯̪͚͞10̺1̷̺͍ ̨͍͕̣̹0̢̱͓͖̭̤̺̠0̳̮͔̼͔ͅ1͞1̥͉͉̱̥1̭͓̣͓̤1̮1̻̬̳͉1it’s six in the morning when kihyun gets a call. it’s a number he doesn’t know and doesn’t recognise, but he picks up anyway. the voice that greets him on the other end is formal and distant. it explains that his service is requested and asks if he agrees to come and take a look.

 _thirteen_  is awake, is looking at him. his eyes are fixed on the phone that’s pressed against kihyun’s ear.

“what type of person do i need to look at? you need to give me some more details and symptoms so i know what i have to take with me.” kihyun’s voice is scratchy from sleep. he clears his throat and feels _thirteen_  clutch at his fingers.

“it’s not a person. our source told us that you do android’s as well.” the voice explains. kihyun pauses. he thinks about jooheon, about his empty fridge, about the lack of patience and agrees to a visit.

a feeling of dread fills him when the address he gets is in the very heart of the city.0̳̩̮̕1̮̰̼͙̯͠11͕̤͖͙0̹̖͜1̘̘̺̙̘̞͢1͇͕̹̯͈̰͝1̶̤̮̻̳͇ ̫̱̮̪ͅ0͎͖1̴͚͖̭̲̩̟̬1̰0̛̠̱1̲̭̹0̤͈͈͉00̣̙̟ ҉̘0̠̖̟̫̤1̭̫̭1̞̟̣͇0̭͇͖͔̻̯̰0͠0̱͚̖͔͜0̼̻̯̘͓̹1͔͓̜̹͇͉̙̕ ̶0̦͖̠1̬͎11̧̫̲̩̰̯̞ͅ01̱͖͜0̤̣̞͈0̠̪͈̝̼̝ͅ ͏̮̘͙0̹̯͉͎̣̥̰͜0̜̺͕1̜̭̬̩͇̩͈0͉͓͙̝00̝0͙͔̪̣0̥͕̦͉̹̬ͅ ̡̗̫̟0̲͔̣̺̩͝1̫̺̤͎͖̝͓1̡00̫̙̰1͓̮̠͚͎̳0̺̞̬0 ̯͚͓͓̥̯͟0̱̺̦̭̪͓̮1͚͙͔͈͎̘1̪̳0̺̭͙̼̲̭̥1҉͖1̸̳̦̰͓̝11 ͏͖̳̜̠̮̥͕0̕1̦̪̮1̯̥̬̝̣͓͖0̵̤̖͓̥̤̺0̢̗͓1̠̺̩̲̪̯̙0̥͉̜̝̖̺1̶̪̲̯ͅ ͖0̫̲̤͓̘͘1̫̠͜1̥̳͞1͎̻̩̖̥0҉̦0̤̺̼̪̪1̭͙̱̯1̲̟̪͇͙̙͙ 0͙̫̤͈̟̝͢0̥̱̘1̟̩̘͕0̷̙͎͎̪̜̭̘0̢̠̩̤͖̼͎̮00̶͍̝͎͔̪̮0̢̺ ̴̬̠̦0̖̹̹̦̰̮͉1̲1͈̝͎̞͉̤0̴̩̝̯̥̹͙0̤̹̹͈͙͔0̥̘0͏̭1͉̲̼͘ ͉̦̗̝͉̪̞0̰͠0̟̥1̤̼͔̗̹͢0̸͇̱͖̟0̶0͓̭͈̬͍̠̥0͙̼̩̜̙0͓̜͙ ͍̹0̩̫͇͉1̮͔͇1̮̦̻̙̩̪̭0͔͓̙̰̤̻͞1̤͞00͓̩̭̹̠̼̩0̜̝ ̨͕͎̱͓0̼͡1̴̺̘̺͙1̯͚̫̘̠̠̜͝10̹̣̤͓̲̺̣͞1̴̟̤̝0͖̜͖1͜ ̙͕̠̣0͔̭̹1͚͎̭̜̮͓͘1̮̭̲̻̺̭̟0̟̹ͅ1͔̱͙̳̦1̹̮̯̟̟0҉̳̝̟̘̘ͅ1̩͞ ͝0͍̬̞̜̮̝1͈͈͇̰͟1̸̝͕̙͎0̸͍0̪͓̰̼0̼͙̮̪̹̼̩0̮̼1͓͔͙͓̜ 0͈̜͎1͙̙̫̻1̧͇01̩̞1̦̖̥̻͎̼1̤0̦͉̹͓̙̞̦͞ ̴̹̘̟̳̞̙̪0͉̬͖̜̭̕0̷̼̱̟̭1͔̼̜̬0̵̝0̰̖̟̹̦̫̹0͎̘͓̮͘0̲̞͓͜0̲̗͓̤͔̗̘ ̮͙̱̘̭̠0̧͔͖̱̺̹̦̠1̡̩͚̗̜1̡̖͖0̺̝̯͢1̬͇͘1͈̬0͕̮̖0̦͔͙͚̲͕ ̯̦̰̩̰͓̖0̭̻1͔̺̣̺̞̮1̣̠̗̪̘͉̬0̷̣͓̩10̷̳͔̘̫ͅ0̮1̹̠̜͜ ̧̜̫͎0̱͈̮͝1͚͍̘̣1͔0̧͙0̖̤̮1̘1͏̦͉͈̼̩0 ̭0̫1̴̘͇͚1͈͕0҉̪̭̖̩̥0̰̠̜1̯̗̬̳̻̭͢ͅ0̥͕1̶͚̗̲ ̨͔̯̪0҉0̸̰̻͍1̢0̘͓͉0͇̦͙̪̫̻0̢̩̝͚̫0̻0̠͓̼ ̡͎͚̣̱͇̭0͉̞1͚͉̯̮͉͚ͅ10̴̖̹̜̬̟͓̲1͇̺̬1͏̞̝͍̝͔͎̰0̰̰͎ͅ1 ̹̤̪̣͎̲̻0̷̠̘͍͖̗͖11͓0͚̙̳̙͢0͈͙1͇͇̱̮0͏͚1̡̦͈͔ 0̯1̨̝1̝̹̪̱̱͜0̛͍͙0͎̼͖͔͉͈͈0̻͍̺̬̺0͏1̢̼͔̰ ̳͖̘̬͇̮ͅ0̜̬̦̞̣1̹̼̠̟̘1̙͝0͍1̭͓̗1̺1̢̲̙0̺͚ ̙̤0̬̻͈̞͎͜0͕͔̭̩̪1̵̫̣0͈͕̮0̭͝0͔̳̲̳̬̮̰0͏0̨̥̱̱͕ ͢0͉͓͉̹̪̪͎1͕̰͍̯ͅ1̬̻̰̦̗̲̥1̷͓̗̲̝̜̺̻0̙̭̞̝̭̮̟1̸0͚0̟͍̲͇ͅ ͏̼̪̰̞̪01̬͕͔͟1̢̫̰0̡̗͎̪̪̼1̵̟̲̘1̰11̶ ͈0̭̣̟̥̟0̥͖͈͖̟̝͇1̢0͍̳͕̜̦ͅ0̦̠̗̘̹͝0͓̯0̧͔0͇̲ ̹͈͔0͇̮̲͜1͓̳͇̼̮1̜͖̤̥͕͍1̳1̢0̡̻̩͙̯͎0҉̭1̪͈̤͍̯̱̩ ͎̙̭̠͔̻̻0̢1̤̮̭̞1̘̙̪̹̭0̣̠1̨͎̗̖̠̤1̩͈͓̜̘̘̙1̡̦̠̳̤͚̥̞1̶ ̼̥̯01̵̝͍͎1̢̮̘̲̫̯͔1͏̩̦̠0̮͎̼̮͙̼̥1̴͓0̥̮̮̜̥̕1̨̰̤̙͎̘ ̝͓̫͇̰̹͎̕0̷0͔͔̘̱̩ͅ1̺̙͠0̵͖̻͚̠0͓̬̱̝̜̦̱͘0̲͉͖͕͞0̳̦̩̟̪̻̺͘0̵̙̮̺̘̗ͅ ̟0̗̰̞̗̜͘1͍̮͖1̖͙̥͕̦͉1҉͔̩0̝̥͉͕͍̮͘1̛͕̺1̘͕̯͈̱͖̖1̼͕͓̞͇̯̱ 0̝͡1̩̠͢1̻̪̻01̰0͔͖̞̫͇̰0̪̭0 ̦͓̙̺̦̦0̘͍̬̱11̺0̬̰0̠͚͘1̹̳̭̥̬0͓͍͔͇̙1̵̥͙̩͓̩͍ ̡̯͎̰̥̦0̜̙̩͙͙̹͡1̰1͔̥̭̖͎0҉͖̳̹̮̣͖̤1̴͙̼͇̜̗1̧̖͔̰̬͍ͅ1̷͈0̦͔ ͉͎̠̤͙͠0̹̰͍͇0̬̤̪͕̰̘͟1̘̗̹͚̕0̥̪̫̝̭̲͖͟00̪̺͇͇͎͖̰͢0̗͈̩̬0̙̯̜̱ ̘̮0̡̠1̦̮̗̩̭͚̘1̤̺̼̝͉1̧͚͓1̤̼͙͎0̠̪̩̟̞̟̘0̩̙͍͖̫1 ̩̻͙̼ͅ0̮͇͔͙1̯͡10̗̲1̘̲͖1̪̦͕͈̝͎͡1̯̱͙̞1͚̘̘̙ ̥̫̥0̷̝1͎͇͖̹͡ͅ1̡1̻͠0͙͍̻̻1̫̪̰̗̥͔̕0̖1̭̜͖̳͉ ͅ0̝0̲͍̬͍̗͈͔1̩̪̗̳͠00̺̮͇͠0̛̫͚͖ͅ0͏̪͇0̴̦͙ ͏̼͙̳̱͙̺0̢̪̺̠̜̩1̥͖̰̻̣ͅ1̫̳̞̝͍1̻͖̫̪0̭1҉̺̻0̶̺̦̟̞̝ͅ0͈͙ ̪̰̟͙̩̟͞0̶1̹͉1͔̫̫͓͎1͚̤̯͔̭0̭̹̕0͏̩̥̮̣̠1̤͖͓͇͙͈0̖͕̻͓͉ͅ ̻͙0̗̮̰1̞1̷̯1͎̖̦̖̮̣1̜̱͍0̫͎̗͉̱ͅ0͓̗1̴͓ ͏00͉̝͔̳͓̜1͓͍̳̘͓̞͝0̝͍̪0͚0҉̖̺̪͓0̡0̳͔̠͘ ̵0̖̮̠1̹̗̙̺1̜̜̲͓1̺̕0͏͉̩̩̗̟̳̙1҉̰̬̹̖̝͉0̴̫̤̼͔̱0̱͙̜͕ ̯̩̹͎̦̬0͎͕1̞̗͚̰̠͍10̦̯͕̠1̡̼͓͔1̧̫͍1̵̮̪1̴ ̪͔͠0̳̦̹0̗̼͈̥̳̜̖10̞̰̦̹̝̰ͅ0̮̩͕͈̘0͚̦͜0͙̜͉ͅ0͡ ̤͍͓̥͟ͅ0͇̟̹͙̬͢1̜̲̘͉̠̣̯1̷͇̩͈͎̲̰1͚͈̕0҉̖͎̞͙0̷̟̘̫̮1̩̲̖̲͠0͞ ̲̜̙͕̯͙̳0̵̝1͍͉̤1̵͖͓͓̣͈͕ͅ0͖̤̰̹̲0̴̩̝̫̪̞̬ͅ1̡̰̲͕̟̗͎͈0̬̬̺͍͈̞1̜ ͓̦͉͎͕̳͟01͉̹̘11̶̹̖̳͚0͖͔͝0̵̲͈̭̙0̭̙̟0̳͘ ̸͈̜̼̬̣0̶̲̝1͙͍̤̺̬̝͖1͓̝0̭̣̱1͔̪̺1̨̣͉͉͈̭̙ͅ0̴͈̟͕͇͙͉͉0̖͉̰̳ ͔͉͙ͅ0͙̖͓͘1̙1̨̝̦͔̰͕͈0͖̠̮̝0̛̼͇̘̰̹͖0̻̬̜͙̪0̜̙̗͔̣̱͕1̷̪̥̣ ̤̙̗̱͍͙0̖͓͚̥͈͘1̥͚̹1̭̻̗̠͔̳ͅ0̪̯͇̺̬̜0̘0͍̺͚̱1̜͢1̤͉̥͙̳̞͘ ͙0͏̦̼̟1̨1̼̩͚̫͉0̩̦͚0̼̣̤̹1̺̘̺̺̜̟͟0̪̪͈̰̝̠1̣̙ ̲̜̥̩̳0͇̦0̰̲̟1̫̬͓̤͚̬̫00̣͚͎͇̱͜0̰̘̖̲̮̮ͅ0̠0̹̯ ̸̻̖̞͎01̭̥̜̳̪͔͈1̵̯̪͔̜̠ͅ0̛͚̖͎1̩̮̟ͅ0̬̟̞̙͚ͅ0̟͓̭1̩̟̗͓̺ͅ ̷͔̫͉̮̜͎ͅ0̵̤ͅ11͍̬͢1̹0̜̹̲̣̣1̩̬̪͙͉ͅ0̛͓͇̤͎̬͈0̯͞ 0̶͖̮̹̝̗̟̗0҉1̠͙̞͓͍̙1҉̦̫̞1̥͇̣1̫͍1̴͉1̗̘̫̥͢you aren’t hyungwon. you share his face, his belongings, you’ve taken over his life. his parents tried to mold you into his skin, try to fill you up with knowledge. his photo albums aren’t enough, being surrounded by the life he used to have isn’t enough.

the twelve that came before you failed and you know that you’ll meet a similar end. you can feel it approach.

you aren’t hyungwon. you are you.0̰̟11̻͚͔͜0̮̟͓̣͓̦̕1̤͕͕͓͎ͅ0̖̲͉̼͓0̖͖͓ͅͅ1 ̶͈̼̤̹̦̥͕0̵̪̹̗̪͉̹0͈̥1̘͖0̘̟ͅ0͖̼͍1͢1̞͙̭̪̱͖1̦̲̭̲͚ ҉̟͙0̡͖̣̠͔͈̙ͅ1̳̟1̩͖̠̦0̗̹̭̦̼1̖͉͘1̪ͅ0̢͙̱̰̱ͅ1͎͎͙̦̹̩ ͍̫̣̗͈0͕̘0̙̩͚̫̗̘1̭͇̲̪̠̳͇0͏0͈0̷̫̯̩0̝̙̬̹̥͜0̸͓̳̜̟̺̥͔ ̣0̬1͓̼̻̺̰͉̕1̣̜01̳̩1̧̮͓̱̣͙̰1̡̗0̤̹͖̲ ̧̪͙̼̫̣0͏̣̻̭̫̻̯11̶̳͓̮0̪̖̜̘̭̻1҉̥̫̩͉ͅ1̡̝͔̜͓1͔̳̺̫1 ̷͖̹͍̯0͓̦̝̭1͓͞11̶̥̮͙0̩1̸͇̩̮͕̼͖͕0̰͍̣0̸̯ ͠0̸̫̲̲̼̥̰0̪͙ͅ1̠̞0̟̙͝0͍̬̭̭͝0̛̗̙̬̥̲̩̲0̭̞͈̻͓̼ͅ0̗͔ ̣0̢͉̭̲̠1̯̰10̢͉͕̞͇͎̼1̫͍̞͞0̛̝̖̯0̨͉ͅ0̤̤̣̭̞͢ ͇̭̗0̻̜1͔̥̹̰̬ͅ1̛͍͕͔̜1̥͈̱1̨̦̰̝͍̬0̦̪0̟̘̗͢1͈͔̭͍̯͢ ̤̩0̺̲͚̪̖̣̝1110̬̗̲̝͘1̮̯̟0̠̥̻̻̼1̳͎͔̻̻̰͟ ̟̖͈̖̺̖0̖̮̪̟1͉̠͙͔̖͞1̡̺͍0̱̻̞1̵̰̳͔̥1̴̮̺̙1̡̤͉̙͔̭̣͓0̝̩ ̲0̺͈̖̞͉͔͙1̴̞̬̣͈̯10͎̱̫̯͖̦͢01͖͘1̮̼1͙̠̝̱̜͙̱ ͙̩̕0̭̝͉1̝̩̳̙͙̬̩͜1̣̱̲1͚0̸̫̻̪1̜̘̯̠͘1͍͈͟1̧̟͎̟̪ ̸̘̱͍͇̠̼̤0̣͎̼̬̮͡1̣͈1̨̭̠̬0̷1͏̙̜̳̩̤̰̰1̡̼͖̤̱̼̞1̰̳̳͚͉1̹̥̫͖͕̫̹ ͈̭̮͍̘͠0҉͉̜̙̟̫ͅ1̠͙̻ͅͅ1̟̰̹̳͓̱̕0̲̖̙ͅ1̙͙̮͎1͕̜̞1͚̝̼̳͔0̙ ͉̯͝0҉̞̝̙0͏̬̻1̸̪̘0̸̘͓͔͔̤̙̪1̜̘̲1ͅ1͙͖͇̫͔͉0҉ ̗̬̤0͚͇͝0̩͖1̴͙͉0̴͕̱̩̼͎̫0̺̮̠͢0̸͖̗̙̹͍̣̯0̗̙̭͔͚͇0̝͓̬̹̗ ̫̞͎͉͈̙0̠̭̣͙̭̯̙1̨̺̟1̱0̪͈1̰0̧̮̬͙̳̗0̥̪̦1͟ ̧͚̞̮͖̰0̠͎̙̦͚͉͕0̝1̤̯͕̭̺͟0͚̩̘̝̖͓0̴0̯̯̙̩͎0̵0͇͜ ҉̻ͅͅ0̧̫͎̜1͕͔̙̮̳̯̬1̖̘̹̳̗̭0͕̟̤0̥̭̰̘0͎͔̫̠̘0͞1͙̼̥̝̳͓ ̹0̱̯̤1͓̬͚̻ͅͅ101̥͓̬͔̠̻͞1̥̦̜̣̤0̙̮1͖͎̕ ̟̝̜̳̜̙͡ͅ00̕1̸̟̭̻̦͓̥ͅ00̰͔̮̠̬0̡͎͚̟0̷͈̼ͅ0̖͕ ̥0͔͍͔̠̪͙1͉̖̬̩1̨0̶1͎̼1̧̙̟͎̙0̬͓͉̩̝̺1͇̫ 01͉̙̱̠͓1͎͘0͈̯͓͇0̵1̮̫̞0̗͇̝̬̱͟1̘ kihyun is driven from the meeting point to a mansion in the heart of the city. a black cobra eating its own tail is curled in a circle on the front door. the man that has driven him there enters the code to let them in and he’s led from a lobby, up the stairs. all the way he’s asked to keep his eyes on the ground.

despite the sheer size of the estate, they don’t bump into anyone and kihyun wonders if it’s on purpose. he doesn’t dare speak or ignore his one order, though. it’s dangerous to play games in the lion’s den and it wouldn’t take more than the movement of one finger to end his life right there and then.

he’s tense enough as it is; it’s the black cobra, it could be that they found jooheon and want to threaten him using kihyun. or it could be that they found out who has their android and are trying to get their money’s worth.

ultimately, they stop at a door. kihyun can hear voices on the other side. there’s a woman speaking in a high pitch, sounding quite distressed, and the low rumble of a man’s voice. the door opens for him and he’s asked to enter and told that he’s allowed to look up.

the room he walks into is completely white. the bookshelves are filled with books and the walls are completely bare, sans for a few family pictures he doesn’t dare take a closer look at. a man and a woman are standing in front of a large bed; the man seems old, with deep wrinkles on his face. the woman has ensured he doesn’t age. her face reminds him of thirteen.

kihyun’s eyes fall on the android that’s lying on the bed and he bites his tongue. his cheek twitches and maybe his eye does too, but he can’t let them know that his heart is hammering away against his ribcage. he tries hard not to show the shock that makes his hands cold and clammy and his nerves burn from the effort to keep up with the sudden overload of adrenaline that’s pumping through his body.

on the bed lies an android that looks exactly the same as _thirteen_.0̻̠̯1̬̲͉1҉͇̝̯͍̳̙0̻̹̟̮0̲͙͓̞͘0̲0̰͇̦̗͈͔1̻̘͈̝̰͠ ͏̭͚ͅ0͕̺̜͉͚͞1̨1̧̫͈̩̺̮0̬͔̦͚̥̣͙͘1̴͇̤͉1̴̥͙̹̤̻0̹̖̺1̺̺̳͚̭̘͢ ̞͚͚̰ͅ0̢̘͚̼͈͕͖̗0̢1͚̥͚̺̬̜0̢0̪̥͝0̝̰̮̼͉0̰͜0͝ ̬͉͕̺̮0̧̙͙1͏̳̻͕̹̭̞̭1͚̩͚̞̹̲̱0̺̜̮͙͓̼̱1͕̤0̞͖̲̹͖̭̩͡0̻͈1̜͇ ͕00̖̮͎͉͎̦̖1̸0͖͞0͇̗̪͍̰͝0̝00̤̲̘͔̕ ̤̞͈͟0̼͕1̭̖̖̠1̗̦̹̮̪̥͟1̝͈̦̞0͓͈͜1̧͖00̭̯̻̕ ̬͙0̺͇̦͔͟1̘͇̲̠͕ͅ10̘͙1̠̣00̖̭ͅ0͖̦̭͟ ͓̤̥̹̝̖̹0͎̹ͅ1̬̙͉̹̺̮1͎̳̜͜00̠̖͜1̡̙͍̭͖0͎͉͉̲̦̰1̮̗̤̹̳͔͈ ̲̰̮̱͓̮͘00̺1͙̥͜0͍̘̪ͅ0̧̟̙̙̰0͉̳̜0̙̠̬̟̘̰0̝̖ ͍͡0͉͢1̧̳1̺̹0̩͍̰0͔̯͍0̸̜͔͚͙͉1͖̹͖͎̪͚̻0͍̰̬̥͎̭̱͟ 0̪͈̲͓̻̝1͏͕̘̘1҉1҉̪̣̰̳0̗̲͔͎͍̲0̦̥̯̦1͟0̨̞̮͓̤̫͇ ̞͓͡0͇̺͕1̖͓͍͔̮͖͈1̺̠̥̘̰͍0̛̩͉͙̯ͅ1̴͖1̬̪1̨̱̞̹̦͙1̺̞ͅ ̤̫̻͈̻̪͠0̬̩̭1̞̗̟̬1̨0̻̼̗̳͎ͅͅ1̜͈͔̟̦͙0̺͙ͅ1͏1̪̲̹͡ ̗0̝̻͙1̢̜̻͔1̪̱̻̜̯0̜̖͍̮̭̳0̶̹̲̹1̼̜̙̣͈͡0͉̹1̜̫̬̫̣͍ 0̯͖̝̲͙1̡̻͓͉10̶͖̘͉͇͇̤1̭̪̻̬̘̣͞1͙͎1͓͙0̦̳̣̝̭̥ͅ ̷͚̮̹̙̰̠̞0͖͈͙͞0͓̬̹͚̙̪1̙̻͔͈0҉0̣̥͈͞00̪̲0͕̬͉ͅ ̠͍0̵̬̭̦͚̟͔ͅ1̷1̬̜̦̺̜̤̖0҉͙̳̳̘1̘̼͙͚̰̥̫͝1̗̯̭1̙̜͖̣̪͇̠1͙̗̭̱̣̖͝ ̟̺̺͈̻0̛͕̤͕1̫1̷̟̞̻̳̙̳͙0̢̙͖͚̣̥11̦̠̳̦̞̲ͅ1͈͡0̣ ̞̰̖̩͔0̰̮̥̺̳͇̠1͖̺1͏̺̠͕͓00̯͔̦̣͙̕1̘̲͕0͕̪͍̤̘̼̳͢1̻̘͎ ̟͍͎͍0̰̬0͕͙1̟0̩̮͙͎0̪̟̙̳̖0̭0̠0͎ ͏̼0̡͔͙̝̪1̧̮̰̭͕͔̥̩1̤̦͕̪͖̩0̵͓1̵̰͕1̴͔̼1̠̗1̩̪̖̦͇ 0͔̬ͅ1̞͓̳̱̹͈͞1̜̥̯̖͙͞1̭͢ͅ0̻̼͜0̪̬̼͎ͅ1̤̬̦̗0͡ ̨̗̘̠͖0͔̞͓͎͕͇̖0̵1̻̙0̭̗̮̫ͅ0̴̯̯̩000̮͕͉͓͓̫̣ ̛̜̗0͖̭̲͞1͉̝1̥̭0̫̟̖0̡͙͕̙̹͓̹͎0͍̮̘01͇̞̳̭̜̭͠ ͖͍̪̞͉̺0̯̜1̟͎̝͚͍11̗̰̠̪0ͅ0̞10͉̘̩͔̩͓ ͕̦̖̖̻͜0̞̭̼̕1̻̙͓̤̞̙1͏͇̝0̞̹0̷͎͉1̯̣͍̥0̢1 ̰͔̳̩̼̦͝0͇̫̩̟̹̝0̹͓1͉̮͠0̙̳̳̪̤0҉͖̻̗̰̩̖̠0̤͘0̶0̸͓̼̺ ̝͔͓͔̮͔͙0͕̳͈̩̳͡1̶̼͚͖̼1̪͚̘͎̱1̧̼̬1̮̬̱͎̬0͔͙̰̫̮0̙̩̖̕ͅ1҉̯ ̱̭͖̜0͎͇̼̲͉̪̺1̹̟̤͎̺̘͝1̩0̱̟͘1͔̝̼1̱̗͕̥̘͘1̩̙̖̠͜1̱̙̣͜ ͇͈̝̭͡ͅ0̷1͏̱̞̲͈̣͓̞1͡1̲̝̜̲ͅ01͓̹̪̘ͅ0̶̬͈͉1͙ ̮̝̳͕̩̣0̖̳̮͔͈͡0̺͈͓̯͝1̣̝͖̞1͏͚͕̰̠̬̗1̢̪͍͙̦̪̻1̨͖̱̥̜͖1̧̱̹͈1̥͎you open your eyes. you finally know who you are. your consciousness of self and new identity come at a high price. they say you’re broken; it didn’t work out _again_. all this time invested into copies of hyungwon and it didn’t work out. the father looks angry, he shouts, his face red in anger. without the capacity to feel distraught at his display, you remain calm. there’s a flutter of something in your chest but it’s so subtle over the raging drum of his boisterous voice you simply miss it.

and it doesn’t matter because the next thing you know they’re gripping your arms, holding you down, touching your nape. the next thing you know they don’t call you hyungwon.

you open your eyes. you’re sitting in the back of an old truck. a boy with round cheeks and a dimpled smile is talking to you. your memory is fuzzy, but you remember one thing clearly: you are _thirteen_.0͖1̗̠̺̙̙ͅ1̨0̞͉͝1̴̥͈̮̟͓̼̝0̙̺͍̰̰̩0̻̘͕͓1͉̺ ̤͖̟̪0̘͕͇̩̺̩̥0̞̗̘͍̞͠1͜0͕͙͉͎̬͚̜0͈̜0̵̩̼0̻̣̻͇̩͕0 ̖̤̗̥0̢̞1̭͕̠͜1̪̝͟0͙͙̖̠͓0͚̣͖̮̜0̥͔̳͞0̴̭1̹͔̭̤͉͢ ̹̗͉͔̠01̡͙̭̟̲̮1̩͓̫͖͘0̜̥̱̞̰͜ͅ1̳̮͎͍̱̝̟1͖̣͇̬̭̩̭0̺͢1͜ ̠̖͝0̞͓̹̪0̯̲̥͓̪͝1͢0̤̫̤̪̯͇͔0̛͍̲̼̝̟̲͖0̳͎͚̳0̛̮̫͉̠0͝ ̣̖͚̮͔̪0̥͓̻͖͎͢ͅ1̞͔̤1͓̥0̤̞̝̭͇̥1̧̼̬̤1̻̝̪͉1͜0͖͚̯̜ ̨0͎̰͈͉̲̫̖͢1̨͕̩̝͕͔̗̯1̣̹0̢̳̙ͅ1͍̦͚̼̝͡1̵̙̩1̟̰1̪̳̙ ͡0̨͖1̨̫͉̖̖͙1̯̯̬̗̙̩1̶̯̦̝̹̖̩0͈̙̺1͔̼̩1̠̲͘1͕͔̟̝̼̥͉͞ ̧͎͍͕̭̬0͓̤͙̳0̨̣͙͈̜̜͖̫1͚̗͎̘̖0̪ͅ0͙͟0̞͚̮̬̜̹̣͢0̸0̰͓̳͚ ̖̹͇͉̟̭͠0͚͖1̠͍̥1͚̝̼̪̠̗0̮͎̹1͍1͕͍̟̻0͓̜1̩͔̤̪̠͉̣ ҉̦̤̘͚0̨1̧̤͙͎͈͈̠1̹̹̻͍̺͟1̵͇͇̳̺̥͈̩1͈0̟̱̟̣0͈͉1̶̲̰͕̟̹̮ ̻̣͢0̶̯̯͕͈ͅ01̺̗̬̬̮0̟͔͍̦0̳0̫̜̠̖̺0̤͍͈̖̣̤̤͝0̺ ̴0̘̖̫̣1̡̬̬1̜̻̜͡0͈̖̞ͅͅ1̮̱̣̙͎ͅ1̣̞̙1̹̲̣̣1̧̥̮̱̤̣̺ ̧͔̞̺0͖̗̮̻͉͝1̤͚̪͚̰1̥̘̼̼̰͙1̵̺̙͈̩01̸̤1̳͇͙̝̜̻1͓͍͈̲̙̜̤ ͘0̤̦1̞̘̣͓̟͚1̙̭̘̞̦̰͓͠0̪̬̜̝̞͕̗1̮̗̘͇͔ͅ1͈͍̟̮̪1͎̮̣̗͓͟0̢̦̜͚̘ ͕̱͝00̥̱̟͚̰̤̩1͙̰0̪̭̘͈̞͉0̴͔0̬͔̜͚͉̥0͔͕̮0̩̻̺ͅͅ ̸0̰̼̫̠1͇͎̪̥1̱͖̹͚̞̳͡ͅ10̡̜̗̜͚͇̖0̼͕̝0͏̮0͝ ̙̪͍̯͞0͉͇͈͔̪͟1̨̪̰͎̜͚͖1̪͜0̲͓̼͈̰͈͚0̻̤̻10̞̱̗̦̥1͢ ̘͖̭̭̪̠͢0̗̝͍11̵̻͚̞̫̣1̵͕0͈̞0͏1̹̳͔̙̼͘0͟ ̦͔̩̖͚̬0̟̣̬̖̦̙͟1͇͓͕̣͉͈1͉̹͈̙͍͡1͎͚̞͓̩̣0̙̺̝̥̟͓0̩͎͕̬̠̼̬1̻̫̟͖̩͈̮1̼̻͙̫̱ ̕0̡̦̜̝1͓̕1̯͉̕0̪̳̤̲̹̝1̭̺̬̜̺1̸̖̖̟̳̱1̝͓̺̼̖͖1̛̫̬ͅ ̧̼͇̫̣͍̟0̣̬͚̬̱͟ͅ1̧͕̼̲̠̗1̠̟͔̠̜0͕͞1͇̬̘͚̣̖ͅ1͎̰ͅ1̞̥0̼̪͇̼̺ ̭̩̘0͉̗̱̻̬̺ͅ0̗̠̺̥̙̮͢ͅ1̤̯͡0̥̫͎͖̭ͅ11͍̪̬̲0̺̦̲̞̦̳0̭̪̤ 0̤̹̳̩͉̪̕0̷̝͚̮͇10̦0͖͝0̕0͔͝0͉͍̥͍͟ ̰͈͇͉̗0̪̣̰̣1̛̗̞͖̝̪̯1̭͇͓͇̪0̘̫̳̻ͅ1̗͓̹̱͞0͏͍͕0͙͔̮̗1̧ ̯̫̲͎̖ͅ0̬̩͇̞̱̙͠0̝͕1̷̪͎͖0͏̮̺̤͖0̖̪̪0̤͖͎͚̖̞͟0̸̰̖0̪͓͎̖ 0͎̲1̨͍̯͙̘1̝̞̙̘̺ͅ0̼̳̺̭͔0̷̼0͇̠̬͖̠̳0̞͙̥͎͎̫͢1͍̭͍͙̗͇̠ ͕̯̥͍0̛̲1̢1͖̫͓͈͍̦͞0͘1͡1͕̭̖̺̳0̫̝͍̰͍̕1̶̳̟̖͍̭ ̸͔̺̞0̜̤͞0̸̪̙̣̗1̜̪̣̩̜̰ͅ0̻̜0̫̖͈̠ͅ0̟̥̦0̸̞͎̼̳̫̬̯0 ̗̻0҉͖̱͓1̩͉͇̪1̵̦̖̯̹̻ͅ1̭̦̗̯̬0͓͢1̷͇͎00͖͉ ̭̗͕͖͓̲0̙̫1̵̯͓1͉͚̳̞̭̟͡ͅ0̸̯̠10̰̖̖0̡0̼̟ ͏̟0̨̹11̮̗̫̪̫̗0͖͙̗͠1̻͖̲̝0̖͍̬̙̮̥͜0̰͎̮̱̭͟1͔̙̗ ̱0̧̫͓̹̰̥̝1̛11̘͖0̟̦͖0̷̟1̙̝̘͔̼̠͔͝0̶̩͇͚͕͙̝ ̝͎̻̙̘̗0̵͕̟1̧͔̻̬̗1̻̮̯͓̳̭͈10̣̱͈1̦̙͔̝̝̞̮0̫̤̪̳̬̫̘͢0͕ ̝͕̠̠̝͞ͅͅ0̣̻̠͍̘͇1͈͙͞1̬͙̹̰̤̰͘0̷̟̱̜̭͓͕ͅ0̹̱͙1͖̥͖͕̙̘͜0̜1͠ ̼̭0̣̼1͖͔̠̮͓͙1̭̹̜͙̱͟0̪̹̭̣̣0̧1̱̹̞̱͙̬̥0͇̗͓̕1 ̪̼͖͟0͉͓͙̗̠̠1͕̳1̡͓̯̩̠̜̥̳0̸͓̙1̶̦̯̪1̻1̧̜0kihyun stares at a family portrait. the face of a pretty boy stares back at him. kihyun learned that his name was hyungwon and he also learnt that he died years ago.

from the bits and pieces he can gather he pieced together while he was working on the android — fourteen, they call him — he learns that _thirteen_  wasn’t a sex toy for the mob. he learns that there were twelve before him and that there will be more after him. he learns that the parents are desperate and grieving and that the father seems to blame himself for hyungwon’s death.

he can’t fix what they think is wrong with the android, which is his lack of humanity. he tells them that he can’t do anything, but humbly accepts the money they give him at the end.

there’s an emptiness that fills his chest when he’s sent on his way home. he doesn’t believe in fate, yet everything that’s happened since he found thirteen has started to look like a complex, interwoven spiderweb. it’s so sticky that kihyun can’t escape it. by the time he’s dropped off at the meeting place it’s dark and he’s not sure anymore if he even wants to rip away from the spiderweb.

with the knowledge that jooheon and _thirteen_  are waiting for him at home, he hurries back to the apartment.0͘11͎̲̺͈͍̘̣0̠̠̰̠ͅ1̫̥̝̥̥0̞̼0̻͎͕0̴̠͓͙̩͕͓ ̩͡0҉̠͚͙͔̙̰1̴̲̠̯̜10̘0̸̟͉̻̲͙̹1̣̻͍̹͙̞̻0͢1̗̣̞͙̗̟̮ ̦0̖͎͉͢0͕͓1̧̙̤̩̲ͅ0̺͓̱͔͡0̗̦0̞0̹̝0̹̪̻̩ ̗̮͓̦͎̟0̭̳͢1̬̮ͅ1̪̗̟̮̘̠0̺1̗̰͈͖͉̦͘0̫̟̻͠0̼͎̤1̙̼̖̬̠̻̟̕ 0̕1̘͙̝̪1͙1͎͉̹̘̪͠0̬̼̪0͚͕1̥̗̹̠1̠ ̝0̫̳͓̖͉0̫͍͟1̸̝̲̭͉͔̜00͇͍͜0̧͍̟͙͈̲0͈̳̼̯͘0͖̼͔̦̪̭͓͡ ̷͇̞0̷̲̲̯̪͔1̹̰̳̭̘͖͚͡1̲̝̼̟̼1҉̙͓0͓͜10̵͍̮͍̯0̻͕̼̖͡ ͅ0̢1̘͖̰͞1̲͚0̧͖1̪̭0̨̗̠̞ͅ0̧̟̹̠̩0̜̙̠̰̝̞ͅ ̰̹̙̥̕0͇͎͖̙̱̜1̠͓̘̼̤1̸̱̣̭̮̪0͙͎̯0͝1̫͎͙̘0̛̮̫̭͇ͅ1̦͠ ͢0͖̱͇0̢̖1͇̳̹͎͘0͠0͎͙͇00̢͕̘̣̜ͅ0̫̞̗͎̖̮ ̟0̝̮̻̪̤͝1̶̱͇̜1̗̗̝̘̦1͏̮̣̲0̼0͚͍͉0̨̘0͉̞ ̧̫͈̲̪̞͙͈0̘̖̹̬̩1̗̪1̼̰̥̹͡0͖̠̲̗̗̮͜ͅ0͠1̙0͔̜̥ͅ1͖ 0̵̗͚͍̰̬1̛̖1̝̪̗̹͕̝1̲̖̥̟̠͢00̳̥͜1̪̮̖͓̘0̙̹̱̺͚̩̩ ͕̹̰̜̥̦͞0̩̜͇͇̝ͅ1̢̣̘͈1̦͕̺̱̲ͅ1͏̣̮̖̩͓͎̙00͇̦̮̫̟1̡1̸̬͔̦̳̰ ̙̤̠̻̘̱̥0͍͉̭̦͍ͅ1̼1̗0̮̻1͞1͏͇1͖̼̣̥̪͍̞1̸̪̙͔̭ ̴̬͙̦̥̦0͎̝̤͎͢1̨̹1̣̱01͓1͔̼̖1͜0̼̪͓̥͕ͅ ̡̫̖̜̘̟͓0̙̰0̟̦̭̟̠̘̩1̤0͍̠͞0͍͠0̹̺0͈͖̺͍͉̘0̨̻̹ ̻̝0̙̟̲̼̪1̰̲̖1͈̣̤̖̪̻͎1̡01͖͉̭̻0̰̳͈̤̣͇͍0̙͈̩̜ ̯̭̜0̼̜̳̟1̼̪̤̟͓͢1͖0͎̖̖̮̳̙̣10̢͔̭0̰0͕ ̤̥͉͉̜̱0̹͔1̨̼̤̦̝1͎̳̖̦̗̙̺0͏̳̙̖͖̺̰̲0̳͎͍0̻̥̟0̩̖̰̞̬͓1͏̜̜̹͍ ̴̦̦̥͇0̣͜1̳͉̜̥̹͝1̯̥̩̜̫1̶̥̜̼͔̮0̕1̝͈̫̤̥͉͍͟0̴̪͔̬0̵̳ ҉͎̣̭̥0͔̗͞ͅ0͉̣̥͕̜͔̗͝1͞0̡̖͕̺̖̱̮͇0ͅ0̝̣̝̣͈̯̭̕0͏͈͎͓0̪͠ ̜͔̺̺ͅ0҉̤1̵̣̞10̦̰͇̤͉͉͓̕0̴̮͎͇͖̫͚ͅ0̤͚1͔̱ͅ1̹͉͍̗͝ ̶̦̺͔̻̦͔0͏11̝̠̗̖̙0̨̬͇͔̩͇̠̰0̴̫ͅ0̵̪0͎̭̠͜1̰̳̭͕͡ ̙̝̞͉͕͘0̯̼͔11͙̭10͎̥̬̠͈̣1̙̬͙͈̟̲͙0̬̙̜̠̜̯1̹̖̘̰̠ ̵̰0͙̩̗̜̣̭͢1̧͉͈̬͚̝̭͉1̲͍̤̭1̟̦̞͍̼̰͉0̘̻̳͚̣͇̭0͉͉͘1̻͓̙1͔͉͓̘ ̲0̥͔̟͈1̴͇̹͖̦̟͓10̜0͠1̧̯0̧̩͎̞̝̹̬1̵̖͇͚ ͓̱̥͉͇̲̤͞0̗̟̲̰̠111̪̝̻̗̥͇͕0͈̠͖͝01̟̖̭͔̰͞1͏͍̜ ̱̬0̪ͅ0̩͈̹̖̜͘1̻̫̘͍̩͜0͍̝͝0̥͚̬0̧̱͕̤0̸͓̳̜̥͕̱͓0͓͓̭͔͓ ̺0̬̪̝̺̟̱1̲1̴͇̜̦̙̫1͉̼͔̝͢0͈1̷̼ͅ0̶̠0̠͞ ͈͓͞0͕̲̥̬̜1̻͔͈̗̪1͙0͎͕1̛̘͇̪̠0̯0̴̭̟0̝̳ ̝͎͖̜̣͍0͈̯͍̤͢1̦̪̜ͅ1͍̜͇̖͇̘0̛̖̳̟̪0҉̖̬͖ͅ1͙0̙͘1̼͙ ̺̰͉̮̩͠0͏͍̗͔̳̟̟͕0̟͇͙1̛0͖̫̜̯0̬̤̹̹͙̻0͏̙͇͇0̯̞̝̯͔0̻ ̼0͜1̫̣̜͎̝͎̟1͍̯1̤̯͍̲͕0҉̩1̵̝̩̹̤͎ͅ1̤̼̲̼1̗͓͙͙ ̸͈̜͚̹̗̝ͅ0̝͚̗͜1͙1̠͍̦͡0̥̣̦̥̘̲̤00̢̖̰̻͎ͅ0̩̥̘1̟̹̜͍͎̲ ̷̮0̛̫͚1̣͚̖̘͈͢1̪1̻̹̯̻̱͔0͘0̛̯̘͕̹̝̜̠1͈͓0̥̖͈̤ ͉̗0̖̮̻̮ͅ1͈̮͍̪1̺͍͚̻̲01̡̣͉1̵̠̭̮̹̖̜͕0͈̬͓1̺ ̪̕0̼̣̮͉̺̼͟1̮͍̩̮̠͝1̲̖1͔̳͚0̫̜̫̗̱̰1̞͖̜̗͍0̩͟0̱͉͠ ̤͈01̩̞͜1̷͇̟̮ͅ0̹̠̼̩̼̞̮1͓͟0͚0̼̙͈̙͕0̟̼͔̬̮ ̷̱͖̬̪̯̙͙0̦͙̱̫̻͔01̩̟̺̻0̞̻͔̹̼̟͈0̩̰͇̺͔̘0̛0̴͎͕̪̱0͡ ̺͇̠͚̤̘̰0̢͔͉1̕1̢̫͓͙̼ͅ0̥͇̲̬̪10̸͖̹͕̤̬0̻͝1 ̜̜̺̗͎0̦̦͔̰̙1̻̭̯͈1̺͙̰̙̩̘0̩̹̳͓͍͢1̙͠1͖̙͉͖̻̠͜ͅ1͙̱͠0̭ ̴͔͖0͕0̢͕̦̙̣͓͓1̹̩͚̘0̵̜0̨̩̱̬͚̱0̘̺̰͍̖̝0̯͚͓̠̩̝0̗͖ ̢̞̯̲0̵͇̬͓̩̩ͅ1̯̳1̻0̗11͍̼̯̲̹̱0̥1҉̙̝̖̭͕̠ ͖̕0̤̖̺͖͕̪͚1̦̪͖̲̫͢1̜͕̤̣̪͉1̱1̰̦̺̜̖͓ͅ0̖01 ͍͍͕̜̗0͏̞̦̩0̛͚̱̼1̛̞̥̪0̛̖̟̼͔̞0̹͍̪̖̬̭͠00̡̣̼̣̭0̬̝̙̜͔̘̦ ͕̲̭̼̺̳͢0̟̯̜1͚̟͕1̞̥̥̘̪ͅ0̜͖͓͎͇̗0̹̰̞͇̺̕0͔͇̠̪1̖̳̮̼̥͔͍1̠̜̗͙̲̘͉͢ ̩0̰͎͚̤̯͕͢11̷͇̜̺̻0҉̗͕̮̲1̠̞͎0̗͍͉0̴͇̥̺0̺̣̪̩̟̩̻ ̸̥̣0̞̖̜1̷͚1̨̫̜̜̹͎0̰͍̬͔̜0͕̠̦̥͈͓1͍͟0̰̳͝1̤̟͓̜͕ ͍͈̯0̺1̥̥̦̺1̖͚1̤0̛̹̠̤͖͍̖̹0̗̘̫1̲̫̺ͅ1̢̩̻̬ ̘͎̘0͇1̢̟͙̜1̷̠̭͍̻̖1̜̻̣̱̜̲̙0͉̺̟͓̥10̤̯̳͢0͖͍͎̻͉ ̦̩͕̟0̞̙0̸̗͔̮͚̖1̞̖0̥11̝̰͇͍͞1̦͚̠̬ͅ0̦̬̬̦͎ͅ ̢̟̞̜̖̫̘̯0̲̣͎͔̫̻0̛̖̫1̮̗̲0̰͓͖0̥̜̞0̫̟̥̮̺̰0̞̥̗͍̙̝0͚͍̫ ̨̠̘0̥̘̻̭͇̩1͉̪͍̞͟1̺̻̮͎0̝̘̰͙̠̬̕1̵͚̯0̪̹̙00̮̩̦̦̯ ̰͖̦͎͙̦̥0̤͇̳̠͡1̯͍̺͕̦̤1̱̟0̶1̬̜̖001̱̯͙͉̭͞ ̭͈͎̤0̫̞̣̥̞͘11̲͔͈͓̙̜ͅ1̴̺͓͓͔̱0͎̬͔̫̫͞0̸̝̱̘̞̗̼̭1̻̱̬̹͙1̞̲̺͓͙ͅ ̡̼̖0̙͈̱0̸̺͎̱̜̱̞̤1͈̥̳̯͍͚̦͟0̢̱̙͚͇͇̣̣0͈͉̥̮͓̣0̵̫͍̤̩͓̹̮0̜̦̰͕̖ͅ0̕ ̸͇͉̜0̥1̷̞̼͍̫̩1̗̭͓̗0̬̯ͅ1̪͡1͝1̜̥̥͖̝̘0̧ ̵͖̱͎͓͖0̪͓̤1͓̺̦̰̟̮̙10̻̟͓̦͈̱0̞0̮̭̥̱͍̩ͅ0͎̪̼̝1̯͞ ̞̬͇̺0̖̫̹̳͚̩̱1̖̣̜̮1̴̟̲̮̼0̣̤̫͙͙̬1͞10̨̱͙̻̟̦1̼͍̙͉̖̹ ̗̮͕̙̤̠0̛1̦͙͍1͔̠0̢̻̠̻̣̣̪0̯̲̠̭1̝01̬̩͚̭ ̕0̱͎0̲͚͎̖̻1̙̞0̳͓͜0̥̳̖̥̕0̳̥̩0͙͓̱0̧̜̝ ͖̦̙̜0̰̙͟1̶̣͙̞1̹͕̺0̨̮1͔̱0̷̤̘̘͔̪̦̘0̗͚̤̻̳͚1͖̠ ̣͇0̥̰̝̳1̷̪̱11̫̻͚̼͉0̥͕̬͓͉͝0͢1͕̠͚̥̕1̤͝ ̢̠͉̼͖0̛̰̰̭̣͔01̢0̻̥̫͕̙0̱͎͝0̸͇̭0͔̘͖̗̟ͅ0̥̻̟̭͉̝͔ ̗͍̼̬01̘͖͉̲̬̣ͅ1̠̝͉͕̱̳̝0̡1̙͎͔̭̖̦0̩̬̜̯̰͇1͕̠1͚̹̞̙̹͓̳ ̛͚͖͖0̸͈͈̪͉̫1͈͇͈͚͓͉ͅ1̛̻̙̫̞͔̼̘0̮̬̞̼̯̱̕1̬̝̯͕͘0̯̘̣͍̫̣0͉̙̣̰͓͈͓1͈̯͎̘̰ ̦͞0̡̩͇͓1̬̜͇̟͚1̥͇͕0͏̦̮̤1̨͔̪̠̱̜ͅ0͎0̙͙̞̮̯0҉̖̜ͅͅ ̧0̤͔̲̻̘1̝1̬̱̩̟̰̬̱͠1̙̱̱͖͈͍̩͘1̱̬̖̳̗̗0͏͙01̣͕̤͖ ̖̺̗̱͞0̺͎̗ͅ1̠͡11̼̤̟0͞1͎̳0̭̠̟̫̳1 ̙̲͈̖͎̱0̪͔̲̺͎͍͇1̥͓̖̹̟1͎̪0̩̳̟͘1̖͉͔̯͠1̜̲͖̣͖̖10̢̝̩̬̖your eyes are open. you feel warm, safe. the small thrum in your chest is a constant. the warmth around your fingers is easily achieved with a stretch of your arm. he smiles at you and you feel at home.

you open your mouth and say his name.

his name is kihyun.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope some of you guys figured out how to undo the glitch binary code to unlock the "secret" text that's hidden beneath it but in case you haven't here's how to do that: 
> 
> go to a zalgo generator side and copy paste the text, then unclick all options and convert  
> after getting the clean binary code you just need to copy paste that into a binary to text generator and ta da!! you've unlocked the text beneath it 
> 
> here are some links for that [zalgo](https://eeemo.net/) & [binary](http://www.binarytranslator.com/)
> 
> *
> 
> i also now have a separate fic [twt](https://twitter.com/wonnietv) just for spoilers and updates as well as a [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/wonnietv) for questions n prompts!


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